The Grand Babylon Hotel. Bennett Arnold

The Grand Babylon Hotel - Bennett Arnold


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       Arnold Bennett

      The Grand Babylon Hotel

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2019 OK Publishing

      EAN 4057664560896

      Table of Contents

       Chapter I. The Millionaire and the Waiter

       Chapter II. How Mr Racksole Obtained His Dinner

       Chapter III. At Three A.M.

       Chapter IV. Entrance of the Prince

       Chapter V. What Occurred to Reginald Dimmock

       Chapter VI. In the Gold Room

       Chapter VII. Nella and the Prince

       Chapter VIII. Arrival and Departure of the Baroness

       Chapter IX. Two Women and the Revolver

       Chapter X. At Sea

       Chapter XI. The Court Pawnbroker

       Chapter XII. Rocco and Room No. 111

       Chapter XIII. In the State Bedroom

       Chapter XIV. Rocco Answers Some Questions

       Chapter XV. End of the Yacht Adventure

       Chapter XVI. The Woman with the Red Hat

       Chapter XVII. The Release of Prince Eugen

       Chapter XVIII. In the Night-time

       Chapter XIX. Royalty at the Grand Babylon

       Chapter XX. Mr Sampson Levi Bids Prince Eugen Good Morning

       Chapter XXI. The Return of Félix Babylon

       Chapter XXII. In the Wine Cellars of the Grand Babylon

       Chapter XXIII. Further Events in the Cellar

       Chapter XXIV. The Bottle of Wine

       Chapter XXV. The Steam Launch

       Chapter XXVI. The Night Chase and the Mudlark

       Chapter XXVII. The Confession of Mr Tom Jackson

       Chapter XXVIII. The State Bedroom Once More

       Chapter XXIX. Theodore is Called to the Rescue

       Chapter XXX. Conclusion

      Chapter One

       The Millionaire and the Waiter

       Table of Contents

      ‘Yes, sir?’

      Jules, the celebrated head waiter of the Grand Babylon, was bending formally towards the alert, middle-aged man who had just entered the smoking-room and dropped into a basket-chair in the corner by the conservatory. It was 7.45 on a particularly sultry June night, and dinner was about to be served at the Grand Babylon. Men of all sizes, ages, and nationalities, but every one alike arrayed in faultless evening dress, were dotted about the large, dim apartment. A faint odour of flowers came from the conservatory, and the tinkle of a fountain. The waiters, commanded by Jules, moved softly across the thick Oriental rugs, balancing their trays with the dexterity of jugglers, and receiving and executing orders with that air of profound importance of which only really first-class waiters have the secret. The atmosphere was an 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.

      ‘I didn’t suppose you did keep it, but you can mix it, I guess, even in this hotel.’

      ‘This isn’t an American hotel, sir.’ The calculated insolence of the words was cleverly masked beneath an accent of humble submission.

      The alert, middle-aged man


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