“The last time I went abroad I passed through a small country on my way home. There I came across a hotel which I have to remember specially.
“This hotel was excellent. It was so excellent that I’ve never seen the like anywhere. I have no qualms about saying that it was the most excellent hotel in the world.
“My car had been racing along in the dust of twilight among decrepit, single-story hovels when it came to a halt outside a thirteen-story skyscraper complete with plaster roses and a dome, which contrasted sharply with its lowly surroundings and was obviously intended for the accommodation of distinguished foreigners who strayed that way.
“I immediately realized that I had come upon no ordinary place.
“The horn of my car had scarcely sounded than staff emerged from the revolving door of the hotel. There must have been fifteen or twenty of them — a veritable small army.
“One member of staff opened the door of my car, a second helped me out, a third took of my English dust coat, a fourth took my American traveling trunk, a fifth my two suitcases, a sixth my crocodile leather briefcase, and a seventh my French newspaper, which I’d left on the passenger seat. All this happened in the twinkling of an eye, fast, smoothly.
“Those who had no part to play in this stood on the asphalt in a relaxed line, not in military fashion, but none the less in disciplined, silent readiness.
“All of them wore braided hats and curious, violet-colored uniforms that might have come from some operetta. When I walked past them as if inspecting a parade, the braided hats — at no audible word of command — were dofed to reveal well-brushed heads.
“This was how guests arriving from afar were greeted, with that assured, sincere, almost puerile respect which must always have been stored in the very depths of their hearts, where no change in fickle fortune could ever eradicate it, and the only reason that such respect hadn’t previously been shown to me must have been simply that until that day they just hadn’t known me.
“I looked for a long time at my tiny army. I gained the impression that should need arise they were even prepared to shed their blood for me. Tears came to my eyes. A king could not have been received with greater fealty.
“The army, all the more heroic for its small size, dispersed, without trumpet call or drumroll, at a sign from the clean-shaven, graying gentleman who, until then in the background, was directing them. This was the bell captain. He addressed me in English, and bore a striking resemblance to Edison.
“With inef able tact Edison escorted me through the foyer, which was decorated with exotic plants. He ushered me into a capacious room. He indicated a chesterfield and requested me ‘to be so good as to be seated.’ When I had obeyed he pressed a button.
“The capacious room, without a sound, began to rise. I then realized that it was the elevator.
“It was a wonderfully equipped elevator. Apple-green bulbs shed a muted green light so that the sensitive eyes of guests should not be upset. In addition to the chesterfield, other leather-upholstered armchairs stood on the silk Persian rugs, while here and there in corners could be seen little tables with cigarettes and lighters, illustrated magazines, and chessboards on which the pieces were set out so that guests might dispel the ennui of their sojourn there with a little profitable, refreshing entertainment. Unfortunately, I had no time for these delights, as a few seconds later the elevator stopped with a melodious chime at its appointed destination on the second floor.
“Here I was received by a second detachment of staff, dressed in coffee-colored uniforms. At the bell captain’s bidding they opened the double doors opposite the elevator.
“Passing through the foyer I entered a large room, which on account of its dimensions I could rather call a throne room. Artistically draped brocade curtains poured from the Empire windows, which gave a view onto a swiftly flowing stream of blue water. Of this room opened a reception room, with white, gilded chairs, a dining room, a bedroom, and a smaller sitting room, together with a bathroom with a sunken marble bath and Venetian mirrors, in front of which glittered a countless profusion of perfume sprays, nail files, and small scissors. In every room — even the bathroom — three telephones were at the guest’s disposal. The first connected to the hotel switchboard, the second to the outside world, and the third — which had a pink handset — to I know not what.
“I could hardly believe my eyes as I stood in that suite, and then I inquired of the bell captain approximately how much it cost per diem.
“The bell captain didn’t reply. It seemed that he was hard of hearing. In that too he resembled Edison. By this time I was absolutely convinced that he didn’t just resemble him but that he was actually Edison himself.
“I therefore repeated my question loudly, as one usually speaks to the deaf. The aged inventor did hear that. But it seemed that he was shocked and somewhat distressed. He closed his eyes.
“The staff, ranged before us in a position of relaxed attention, likewise closed their eyes, modestly. Their spirits, which surely moved in higher spheres — in realms of thought unaffected by sordid material considerations — had been cut to the quick by my worldliness. It was as if a poet, in the blazing fire of inspiration, had been asked the price of potatoes.
“They all remained silent.
“I was about to apologize, to of er the explanation that I was a poet who earned his bread by the bitter toil of writing, and that therefore I regarded money as important and had a deep respect for it, when the bell captain gave expression to his disappointment by coldly, dispassionately letting fall a number — in dollars — such as all but laid me flat on my back.
“I asked to see another room.
“Thomas Alva Edison nodded courteously. He took me to the third floor, where egg-yellow uniforms awaited us. As I didn’t find the price of rooms suitable there either, we went to the fourth floor, among lackeys in blue and white, then to the fifth and sixth, ever up and up.
“Finally we reached the eleventh floor. Here very handsome blond pageboys in red were on duty.
“The bell captain was becoming worn out, but led me with a still respectful guard of honor along an endless corridor. Here and there a colored light was burning above the lintel of a door. I inquired what those were for.
“He didn’t reply at once.
“A t first he seemed amazed at my unsophisticated curiosity, at the fact that there was still on the earth anyone unaware of the purpose of such lights, and then with dignified brevity informed me that those lights took the place of bells and were meant for various members of the staff, with whom guests could make contact without disturbing one another’s tranquility and the perfect silence of the hotel.
“At the back, in a secluded corner, I found a room which more or less answered my ‘requirements.’
“But it was so luxurious, so splendid, that I don’t dare describe it.