Turbot à l'Amiral promised well; the plump, powerful fingers wrote it down.
Poulardes du Mans rôties with petits pois á la Française with a salade Niçoise to follow; that would be excellent! Then just a little suprème de pêches, à la Montreuil, which is quite the best kind of suprème, then some Parmesan before the coffee.
"Quite a simple dinner, Painter," he said to the steward of the room, — the famous "small dining-room" with its alcoves and discreet corners, — "simple but good. Of course you will tell Maurice that it is for me. I want him to do quite his best. If you will send this list off to the kitchens with a message, we will go into the wines together."
They went carefully into the wines.
"Remember that we shall want the large liqueur glasses," he said, "with the Tuileries brandy. In fact, I think I'll take a little now, as an apéritif."
The man bowed confidentially and went away. He returned with a long bottle of curious shape with an imperial crown blown in the glass. It was some of the famous brandy which had been lately found bricked up in a cellar close to the Place Carrousel, and was worth its weight in gold.
On the tray stood one of the curious liqueur glasses lately introduced into the club by Sir Robert. It was the shape of a port-wine glass, but enormously large, capable of holding a pint or more, and made of glass as thin as tissue paper and fragile as straw. The steward poured a very little of the brandy into the great glass and twirled it round rapidly by the stem. This was the most epicurean device for bringing out the bouquet of the liqueur.
Llwellyn sipped the precious liquid with an air of the most intense enjoyment. His face glowed with enthusiasm.
