Chapter 14

He glanced aside to where the head-waiter stood, a figure of pitiable indecision, a study in fatuous ineptitude. “My man—this lady’s cloak.” Upon the hushed silence of the supper-room the words rang out sharply. The head-waiter hesitated. The head-waiter at Varano’s is a person of proper proportions and seemly dignity. It is no part of his important functions menially to run for hats and cloaks. O’Hagan’s unoccupied hand raised the glass. “Were you aware that I gave you an order?” The head-waiter became aware of th…