I + 

There had never been such a season at the Doric as the season that followed the Armistice; everyone was flocking to the restaurants now, in a kind of hilarious reaction. Millo was in the seventh heaven of delight, and so were most of his waiters, for people were recklessly spending their money, eating up banknotes with every mouthful, and washing them down with champagne or spirits, so that, naturally, when they got up to go, they left a fat tip behind them. + 

Millo had long since had to duplicate his band, for a supper without dancing was unheard of. It was said that among other excellent things, he possessed the best jazz-bands in London. The craze for dancing was on the increase, and now there was no age limit; the white-haired, the portly, the withered, the ailing, young or old, maid or matron, they must get up and dance; while a decadent Pan⁠—discarding his reed-pipe⁠—turned sobriety to bibbing and dignity to folly, with the help of a water-whistle. + 

Gian-Luca inspected his rooms one May morning and quietly nodded his head. Everything was perfect, from the vases of flowers to the well-polished plate and glass. + 

“Va bene,” he murmured, “it is all as it should be; that Daniele is a competent fellow.” And then he observed a fork out of place and hastily put it straight. + 

A man in a baize apron, with a dustpan and brush, was stalking a couple of waiters; every few minutes he would suddenly swoop at some microscopic speck on the carpet. At a long side-table a person in shirtsleeves opened endless packets of matches; he filled the match-stands with infinite care so that each little red head stood neatly in its place awaiting its coming cremation. Daniele was giving a last expert touch to the wicks of the spirit-lamps, pinching them firmly between finger and thumb, then spreading out their tips as though they were petals; for these wicks were important, since they would assist in the making of the temperamental Crêpe Suzette! + 

At last all was in order for the business of the day⁠—and what a momentous business! The Doric would feed many hundred stomachs, postwar stomachs too, long deprived of their fill and now determined to get it. + 

The telephone began to ring every few minutes⁠—people calling up to book tables; Gian-Luca must consult that complicated list which stood on a desk by the door. + 

“What name do you say is asking, Daniele? No, I do not know that name, we have not got a table.” Or: “The Duchess of Sussex? Yes, of course; how many, five? She can have her usual table in the window; and see that you put some flowers by each plate⁠—say a couple of those pink roses.” + 

And now Gian-Luca was much in request, for the clients were calling in person. “Good morning, signore, a table for three⁠—” + 

“Certainly, Milady, a table in the corner⁠—will you take that one over there?” + 

“Ah, scusi, signorina, have you been waiting long? Yes, yes, I have seen to everything for supper, it shall be exactly as you wish.” + 

Gian-Luca was all ingratiating smiles, he seemed so anxious to please you. To see him was to think that he liked you for yourself⁠—not for what you would eat for the good of the Doric; no, he liked you because you were just yourself⁠—that was what was so charming about him. It made you feel genial, you glanced round the room in the hopes of finding someone to nod to, and there stood Roberto, that capital waiter with the really good knowledge of wine. + 

“Good morning, Roberto. So you’re back again. That’s splendid; I’m jolly glad to see you!” + 

And Roberto grinned shyly and bowed from the waist as though you had done him an honor⁠—that was what was so nice about Roberto, he made you feel like a sultan. And there was Giovanni, and he too was smiling, smiling and rubbing his hands⁠—Giovanni who knew how you liked your cold beef, not too underdone, just pink. + 

“Good morning, Giovanni! So you’re safe and sound. Glad to get back here, aren’t you?” + 

And Giovanni looked flattered: “I thank you, signore. I hope the signore is well?” + 

Oh, and there was Millo himself, also bowing, waiting to catch your eye⁠—that was what was so nice about Millo, he never forgot the face of a client; a wonderful gift, and it went a long way towards making you feed at the Doric. + 