Sir John
and Narcisse left by an early train, and for the next few days the
reforming hand of the last-named was active in the kitchen. He
arrived before the departure of the temporary aide, and had not
been half-an-hour in the house before there came an outbreak which
might easily have ended in the second appearance of Narcisse at the
bar of justice, as homicide, this time to be dealt with by a
prosaic British jury, which would probably have doomed him to the
halter. Sir John listened over the balusters to the shrieks and
howls of his recovered treasure, and wisely decided to lunch at his
club. But the club lunch, admirable as it was, seemed flat and
unappetising after the dainty yet simple dishes he had recently
tasted; and the following day he set forth to search for one of
those Italian restaurants, of which he had heard vague reports.
Certainly the repast would not be the same as at the "Laurestinas,"
but it might serve for once. Alas! Sir John did not find the right
place, for there are "right places" amongst the Italian restaurants
of London.
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