7 A.M.
The air within was blue with tobacco smoke , flushed henchwomen staggered to and fro with arms spread wide across trays of whiskies and sodas , opening doors revealed rooms full of men , mutton chops and mastication . There was wildness in the eye of the attendant as she took the order for yet another luncheon . She fled , with the assurance that it would be ready immediately , yet subsequent events suggested that even while she spoke the sheep that was to respond to that thirty-fifth order for mutton chops was browsing in the pastures of Bandon . For eyes that had last looked on food at 7 A.M. , neither the view of the street obtainable from the first floor parlour window , nor even the contemplation of the remarkable sacred pictures that adorned its walls , had the interest they might have held earlier in the day , and the dirty cruet-stand on the dirtier tablecloth was endued with an almost hypnotic fascination in its suggestion of coming sustenance . At the end of the first hour a stupor verging on indifference had set in ; it was far on in the second when the dish of fried mutton chops , the hard potatoes , and the tepid whiskies and sodas were flung upon the board . No preliminary to a week 's indigestion had been neglected , and a deserved success was the result . The business of the fair was still transacted at large throughout the hotel .