Hildegarde Withers Makes The Scene - Plot & Excerpts
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS LATER, almost to the dot, Miss Withers crawled out of the sidecar of the Hog. The simple action, completed with as much dignity as was possible, filled her with a vague sadness, an abortive nostalgia. She had actually grown irrationally attached to the treacherous vehicle, and more than a little fond of the freckled young man who jockeyed it. Now that the time had almost come when she would have no further need of either, she was beginning already to miss both it and him. “Al,” she said, “stay at hand. I don’t anticipate that I shall be long.” Turning away, she entered the Royal Edward. The velvet rope did not now block the way into the dining room, where patrons sat at snowy tables set with gleaming silver and cat-footed waiters moved soundlessly across a maroon carpet. In the bar, soft canned music was an accompaniment to soft live conversation. Behind the bar, a pair of bartenders in dark red mess jackets moved efficiently to serve a row of drinkers on stools and a pair of waitresses, dressed in dark red uniforms, who brought orders from other drinkers at booths and tables.
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