“It wasn’t hard to say,” the Colonel said. “Daughter,” he added.
Just then the concierge came to the table and said, “Excuse me, my Colonel. There is a man outside, I believe he is a servant of yours, my Lady, with quite a large package which he says is for the Colonel. Should I keep it in the storeroom or have it sent to your room?”
“To my room,” the Colonel said
“Please,” the girl said. “Can’t we look at it here? We don’t care about anyone here, do we?”
“Have it unwrapped and brought in here.”
“Very good.”
“Later, you may have it taken with great care to my room and have it wrapped, solidly, for transport at noon tomorrow.”
“Very good, my Colonel.”
“Are you excited to see it?” the girl asked.
“Very,” said the Colonel. “Gran Maestro some more of that Roederer, please, and please place a chair in such a position that we may view a portrait. We are devotees of the pictorial arts.”
“There’s no more Roederer cold,” the Gran Maestro said. “But if you would like some Perrier-Jouet—”
“Bring it,” the Colonel said and added, “Please.”
“I don’t talk like Georgie Patton,” the Colonel told her. “I don’t have to. And besides he’s dead.”
“Poor man.”
“Yes, Poor man all his life. Although quite rich in money and with a lot of armour.”
