'Twas the year I was left a widow! I had ten waiters then, Monsieur, and two billiard-markers, a _chef_ from the best kitchen in Paris, and stables, and _chambrieres_, and--why, Monsieur, the wages of one week were twenty--twenty-five napoleons!" "That was after the war ?" asked Roger.
"Yes.

Before that I had more.

But, alas! they left me for the field, and came no more." "Were all your waiters Frenchmen ?" asked Roger.
Madame stared curiously at the questioner.
"Why do you ask?
I have had many kinds.

Some English, like Monsieur." "A year or two after the war," said Roger, "there was an Englishman, a relation of mine, who was a waiter in an hotel in one of the suburbs south of Paris.

I want to hear of him.