You will have hardly finished your sole before a distinguished old gentleman with a decoration in his lapel and a crumpled napkin in one hand, will pass your table, bowing graciously to you if you are a stranger and stopping to say a few pleasant words if you are a friend. He is slightly bent with age, massive of frame, with silvery locks combed back from a broad forehead, and his face is illumined with kindliness and intelligence.
Such a personage is Monsieur Marguery, whom the French government has decorated in recognition of his skill as a _restaurateur_, a man who still directs personally every detail of this superb establishment where one can dine for a few francs with an excellent bottle of wine, or give a dinner fit for an emperor, including, I have not the slightest doubt, the famous peacock tongues should you wish them, and with a choice of wines from a cellar whose contents are valued at three millions of francs.
In a corner a fat merchant, flushed with a heavy dinner, is ready for his chat with the _sommelier_. He tells him with some fervor that he is proud to say that when he was eighteen he dined on a sou’s worth of bread on the stones of the Place de la Bastille. “Men of that time were ready to begin at the foot of the ladder,” he continues, puffing at his cigar, “but nowadays our sons, who see us in comfort, want to obtain money and luxuries without going through the mill.”
“_Par ici! monsieur_,” says Étienne, and he leads the way up a carved stairway to the floor above, past little _cabinets particuliers_ whose cozy interiors are marvels of good taste. Here is one with walls of rich brocade of the time of Louis XVI. Another is in early French, with its adaptation of Chinese ornaments. Another is paneled in ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl; still another in pale lilac brocade and teakwood. Each of these private rooms has its serving pantry across a narrow hallway where the linen and glass and silver are kept spotless, in readiness at a moment’s notice. A superb private stairway in white marble and stained glass connects this portion of the restaurant with a dignified courtyard leading out to a gray little side street. But these are the little rooms.