Grey.” The owner of Harding’s Oyster House and Lunch Room had come straight from the steam-filled kitchen and was still dabbing at his sweaty forehead. “I do have my other customers to consider.” He waved his arms, indicating the wide expanse of the bustling men’s dining room behind him. The man’s gestures were so emphatic that Lean wouldn’t have been surprised to see two hansom cabs pull up in front of the restaurant’s tall street-side windows. “Of course, Henry,” said Grey. “I wouldn’t have asked, except the young lady and her uncle, Dr. Steig, were assisting me on a delicate matter. Now I’ve kept them from their supper.” Henry smiled as if to say, So unfortunate, but there’s really nothing I can do. His hand was lifted at his side, the fingers pointing up the stairway, mimicking the carved wooden sign outside with its oversize gloved hand gesturing up to the second-floor dining room for ladies. “I feel obliged to remedy the situation but can’t bring myself to take them to one of the lesser oyster rooms.”
