I throbbed with love for America
"Don't be excited," I was saying to myself. "Speak in a calm, low
voice, as these Americans do. And for goodness' sake don't
gesticulate!"
I went on to speak with exaggerated apathy, my hands so
strenuously still that they fairly tingled with the effort, and, of
course, I was so conscious of the whole performance that I did not
know what I was talking about. This state of my mind soon wore
off, however
Neither the meal nor the appointments of the car contained
anything that I had not enjoyed scores of times before--in the
hotels at which I stopped or at the restaurants at which I would
dine and wine some of my customers; but to eat such a meal amid
such surroundings while on the move was a novel experience. The
electric lights, the soft red glint of the mahogany walls, the
whiteness of the table linen, the silent efficiency of the colored
waiters, coupled with the fact that all this was speeding onward
through the night, made me feel as though I were partaking of a
repast in an enchanted palace.
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