The machinery of checking supplies, and of
establishing a mean ratio between the raw stuff received in the
kitchen and the number of meals served in the salle ? manger and
the private rooms, was very complicated and delicate. When
Racksole had grasped it, he at once suggested some improvements,
and this led to a long theoretical discussion, and the discussion led
to digressions, and then Felix Babylon, in a moment of
absent-mindedness, yawned.
Racksole looked at the gilt clock on the high mantelpiece.
'Great Scott!' he said. 'It's three o'clock. Mr Babylon, accept my
apologies for having kept you up to such an absurd hour.'
'I have not spent so pleasant an evening for many years. You have
let me ride my hobby to my heart's content. It is I who should
apologize.'
Racksole rose.
'I should like to ask you one question,' said Babylon. 'Have you
ever had anything to do with hotels before?'
'Never,' said Racksole.
'Then you have missed your vocation. You could have been the
greatest of all hotel-managers. You would have been greater than
me, and I am unequalled, though I keep only one hotel, and some
men have half a dozen. Mr Racksole, why have you never run an
hotel?'
'Heaven knows,' he laughed, 'but you flatter me, Mr Babylon.'
'I? Flatter? You do not know me. I flatter no one, except, perhaps,
now and then an exceptionally distinguished guest. In which case I
give suitable instructions as to the bill.
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