atmosphere of serenity and repose, characteristic of the Grand
Babylon. It seemed impossible that anything could occur to mar
the peaceful, aristocratic monotony of existence in that
perfectly-managed establishment. Yet on that night was to happen
the mightiest upheaval that the Grand Babylon had ever known.

'Yes, sir?' repeated Jules, and this time there was a shade of august
disapproval in his voice: it was not usual for him to have to
address a customer twice.

'Oh!' said the alert, middle-aged man, looking up at length.
Beautifully ignorant of the identity of the great Jules, he allowed
his grey eyes to twinkle as he caught sight of the expression on the
waiter's face. 'Bring me an Angel Kiss.'

'Pardon, sir?'

'Bring me an Angel Kiss, and be good enough to lose no time.'

'If it's an American drink, I fear we don't keep it, sir.' The voice of
Jules fell icily distinct, and several men glanced round uneasily, as
if to deprecate the slightest disturbance of their calm. The
appearance of the person to whom Jules was speaking, however,
reassured them somewhat, for he had all the look of that expert,
the travelled Englishman, who can differentiate between one hotel
and another by instinct, and who knows at once where he may
make a fuss with propriety, and where it is advisable to behave
exactly as at the club. The Grand Babylon was a hotel in whose
smoking-room one behaved as though one was at one's club.