There was, in the big room, a
sprinkling of little tables under the closed windows, but they were
not laid for a meal; and a chair being pulled out for me by a waiter,
exactly opposite my two fellow-guests, I took it and sat down.
My first thought was to order something for the Little Pal, and to
secure a promise that it should reach him hot, and soon. I then
devoted myself to my own dinner, which would have been more enjoyable
had I had the Boy's companionship. I had worked slowly through soup
and fish, and arrived at the inevitable veal, when I was addressed by
one of the Americans--him of the cleft chin and light curly hair,
whose voice I had heard first in the salon.
"You came up by the mule path, didn't you?"
I answered civilly in the affirmative, aware that all my "points" were
being noted by both men.
"Must have been a stiff journey in this weather."
"We came into the mist and snow just below the Col."
"Your friend is done up, isn't he?"
"Oh, he's a very plucky young chap," I replied, careful for the Boy's
reputation as a pilgrim; "but he's a bit fagged, and will be better
off dining in his own room."
"I expect he'll be all right to-morrow. Are you going to try and get
to Chambery, or will you return to Aix by train?"
"We shall push on, unless we're snowed in," I said.
"That's our plan, too. I dare say we shall be starting about the same
time, and if so, if you don't mind, we might join forces.
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