We tendered the landlady a sovereign in payment for our dinner, but
she only kept eyeing with intense anger and disgust and shame this
wretched specimen of a fellow-countryman who had wantonly insulted two
of her colonial guests in her house and in her presence. During the
gravy-rubbing performance she had run downstairs to tell her husband
in case there should be a "scene," and he had retailed the story to
the crowd of "select patrons" gathered in the little smoking-room.
Again we called the lady's attention to the proffered coin, but in her
agitation, it took her at least five minutes to total our bill
correctly.
We offered our apologies for our forcible language, but she considered
no apology necessary. "You were insulted in my house" she said, "and I
admire you for the stand you took. That man will never enter this
place again." Following us downstairs she begged us to step into the
smoking-room "just a minute, to see that all our customers are not
like that one" and when she thought we were not going to accede to her
request she laid a hand on my arm and almost beseeched me to come back
and have a cup of coffee or something to drink.
Her husband, a fine looking, tall, curly-headed Englishman, seconded
her invitation, and we went back to the smoking-room. As we entered,
every man stood up and bowed, and several made room for us.
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