He did not listen, though he kept nodding his head, but looked after the waiters to prevent them removing any of the dishes he had not cleaned out.

They had now finished a veal stew with green beans.

The roast was brought in, two scrawny chickens resting on a bed of water cress which was limp from the warming oven.
Outside, only the higher branches of the acacias were touched by the setting sun.

Inside, the greenish reflected light was thickened by wisps of steam rising from the table, now messy with spilled wine and gravy and the debris of the dinner.

Along the wall were dirty dishes and empty bottles which the waiters had piled there like a heap of refuse.