It was not until the hurrying Bansemer entered the door of Rector's that the apprehension of having committed a senseless blunder came to him.
"Good heavens!" he muttered, stopping short. "What a fool I'm getting to be-meeting old Elias, in a place like this! The theatre crowds--everybody in town will be here by eleven! Curse me, for a hopeless ass! I must get him away at once!"
Grumbling at himself, he passed into the restaurant. Gabe offered him the choice of various tables; he selected one which commanded a view of the entrances and ordered a perfunctory "Scotch." Nervous and anxious, he was more troubled than he cared to admit even to himself. Fortunately, there were not many people in the cafe; and his gaze, wandering about the place, soon halted before the small alcove in the east end containing a table with wine glasses, in waiting, set for a large party. The clock, back of the cigarstand, said it was five minutes after eleven. Bansemer impatiently watched the two doors leading to the street, and was beginning to wonder whether the message had reached the old clerk, when presently, the uncouth shape of Droom, appeared slinking through the so-called ladies' entrance, with the shrinking attitude of one unaccustomed to fashionable restaurants and doubtful of his reception. Bansemer motioned to him.
"Just as soon as I can get my check," he was saying, at the same time, beckoning to a waiter; "we'll move out of this. It will be crowded in--I never thought, a stall at Chapin & Gore's will be better. Here, waiter! My check! I'm in a hurry!--the devil!"