Отель «Гранд Вавилон» / The Grand Babylon hotel

The place was like a palace incognito. There was no gold sign over the roof, not even an explanatory word at the entrance. You walked down a small side street off the Strand, you saw a plain brown building in front of you, with two mahogany swing doors, and an official behind each; the doors opened noiselessly; you entered; you were in Felix’s. If you meant to be a guest, you, or your courier, gave your card to Miss Spencer. Upon no consideration did you ask for the tariff. It was not good form to mention prices at the Grand Babylon; the prices were enormous, but you never mentioned them.

At the conclusion of your stay a bill was presented, brief and void of dry details, and you paid it without a word. You met with a stately civility, that was all. No one had originally asked you to come; no one expressed the hope that you would come again. The Grand Babylon was far above such manoeuvres; it defied competition by ignoring it; and consequently was nearly always full during the season.

If there was one thing more than another that annoyed the Grand Babylon—put its back up, so to speak—it was to be compared with, or to be mistaken for, an American hotel. The Grand Babylon was resolutely opposed to American methods of eating, drinking, and lodging—but especially American methods of drinking. The resentment of Jules, on being requested to supply Mr Theodore Racksole with an Angel Kiss, will therefore be appreciated.

�Anybody with Mr Theodore Racksole?’ asked Jules, continuing his conversation with Miss Spencer.

He put a scornful stress on every syllable of the guest’s name.

�Miss Racksole—she’s in No. 111.’

Jules paused, and stroked his left whisker as it lay on his gleaming white collar.

�She’s where?’ he queried, with a peculiar emphasis.

�No. 111. I couldn’t help it. There was no other room with a bathroom and dressing-room on that floor.’ Miss Spencer’s voice had an appealing tone of excuse.

�Why didn’t you tell Mr Theodore Racksole and Miss Racksole that we were unable to accommodate them?’

�Because Babs was within hearing.’

Only three people in the wide world ever dreamt of applying to Mr Felix Babylon the playful but mean abbreviation—Babs: those three were Jules, Miss Spencer, and Rocco. Jules had invented it. No one but he would have had either the wit or the audacity to do so.