A young man came into an ornate restaurant at eight o'clock in London.
 
He was alone, but two places had been laid at the table which was reserved for him. He had chosen the dinner very carefully, by letter a week before.
 
A waiter asked him about the other guest.
 
"You probably won't see him till the coffee comes," the young man told him; so he was served alone.
 
Those at adjacent tables might have noticed the young man continually addressing the empty chair and carrying on a monologue with it throughout his elaborate dinner.
 
"I think you knew my father," he said to it over the soup.
 
"I sent for you this evening," he continued, "because I want you to do me a good turn; in fact I must insist on it."
 
There was nothing eccentric about the man except for this habit of addressing an empty chair, certainly he was eating as good a dinner as any sane man could wish for.
 
After the Burgundy had been served he became more voluble in his monologue, not that he spoiled his wine by drinking excessively.
 
"We have several acquaintances in common," he said. "I met King Seti a year ago in Thebes. I think he has altered very little since you knew him. I thought his forehead a little low for a king's. Cheops has left the house that he built for your reception, he must have prepared for you for years and years. I suppose you have seldom been entertained like that. I ordered this dinner over a week ago. I thought then that a lady might have come with me, but as she wouldn't I've ask............