“Not everybody. But nearly everybody,” the waiter said. “After all, sheets are sheets and some one has to change them, and some one has to wash them. Naturally I do not refer to the sheets in a hotel such as this.”
“I’ve had some damn good times in my life without sheets.”
“Naturally. But the gondoliers, while they are the most cooperative and, for me, the finest people that we have, speak among themselves.”
“Naturally.”
“Then the clergy. While they would never violate the secrecy of the confessional, talk among themselves.”
“It is to be expected.”
“Their housekeepers talk among themselves.”
“It is their right.”
“Then the waiters,” Arnaldo said. “People talk at a table as though the waiter were stone-deaf. The waiter, according to his ethics, makes no attempt to ever overhear a conversation. But sometimes he cannot escape from hearing. Naturally, we have our own conversations among ourselves. Never in this hotel of course. I could go on.”
“I believe I get the point.”
“Not to mention the coiffeurs and the hair-dressers.”
“And what’s the news from the Rialto now?”
“You will get it all at Harry’s except the part you figure in.”
“Do I figure?”
“Everyone knows everything.”
“Well, it’s a damn pleasant story.”
