Module 4 staying at a hotel

Section I: Discussion of the text The Hotel Stefani by John Millington Ward

1.1 Reading the text the hotel stefani

by John Millington Ward

Paul shook his head tiredly as he walked down the steps of the hotel and got back into the car. "No. This one hasn't any rooms either."

"Oh, dear," said Patricia, crossing off the name of the hotel from the list in her hand. "I'm beginning to despair. This is the eighteenth you've tried — and it's nearly midnight. Do you think we may have to sleep in the car?"

"We might," replied her husband; "but let's go on trying for a little longer. How many more are there on your list?"

"About twenty," said Patricia. She shivered. "I'm terribly cold. Couldn't we go to a cafe or a bar or somewhere that's warm, and telephone the rest of them?"

"That's a very good idea," he said. He started up the engine and looked down the road. "There's a rather nice place over there on the square. Let's go there and have some very hot coffee or something, and then I'll start telephoning 'em. We're certain to find something. In a great big resort like this, it's impossible to think that we can't find anything.”

It was the middle of August, and St. Moritz was very full. Patricia and Paul had had the sudden idea, that afternoon, of leaving Zurich at once and spending a few days at the famous mountain resort. They had driven up to St. Moritz without any reservation of a room in a hotel, but they had not expected to have any difficulty in finding one. They had spent the last three hours, however, in going from hotel to hotel. All were completely full. And now, in spite of the fact that the month was August, it had begun to snow.

Paul stopped the car in front of the brightly-lit and inviting-looking building that he had seen on the square, and the two went tiredly but gratefully into the warm and friendly atmosphere of the restaurant-cafe.

All the tables were occupied.

As they looked about them, a pleasant-looking middle-aged man with white hair got up from the table at which he was sitting, and beckoned to them. "Please sit here," he said, in English. "I was just going to join my friend." He nodded to the table next to the one he was leaving.

"How very kind of you," said Patricia gratefully. "But are you really sure? We wouldn't want to disturb you."

"Quite sure," answered the other with a smile. "Please sit down.” He bowed slightly and moved to the other table.

"Thank you very much indeed," Paul called after him. Patricia and he sat down, and he ordered some hot coffee from the waitress who had approached.

When it arrived, they sat sipping it, letting the warmth of it reach through their bodies. After ten minutes or so, Paul looked at his watch.

“I think I'd better start telephoning if we want to sleep in a bed tonight. It’s getting very late. Where's the list, darling? You brought it from the car, didn't you?"

Patricia handed him the hotel-guide and he got up from his chair and went to a telephone-booth on the other side of the restaurant.

He telephoned five hotels without any success, and then he found that he needed some more small coins. He opened the door of the booth, signalled to a waitress, and asked her to give him some change. He turned back to the telephone and began again, crossing off the names on the hotel-guide each time he received the answer: "No, we haven't any rooms free tonight. Tomorrow we might be able to find you one, but tonight no. We're very sorry."

It was on his ninth telephone call that, at last, he received a different reply. "Would you wait a moment, please?" said the voice at the other end of the line. "There might be a room that we could give you, but I must ask the proprietor. One moment, please." Paul lit a cigarette and waited anxiously.

Two minutes went by. Then: "Good evening," said a different voice. "I'm told that you are asking for a double room."

"Yes," said Paul eagerly. "I am indeed. Is there any hope? Have you got one that's free?"

"Well," said the other. "It's difficult to say. We have a room empty. It's true. But it has been reserved."

He paused, and Paul waited, with a sinking feeling. "On the other hand the people who reserved it have not yet arrived — and it is half past twelve. In fact, it is after half past twelve." He paused again. "They are probably not coming after all. Yes, I think I can safely assume that they don’t arrive tonight. So you may have the room."

"Thank heavens!" murmured Paul, and looked again at his list to find the name of the hotel. "Let me make sure whom I'm speaking to, please. I've telephoned so many hotels. Let's see — yes — you are the Hotel Stefani, aren't you?"

"That's right. The Hotel Stefani."

"Where is your hotel, please?"

"Right in the centre of St. Moritz. Where are you speaking from?"

"I don't exactly know," said Paul. "I'm a bit lost after driving round and round for three or four hours. But never mind, I'll ask someone to direct us, and we'll be with you, my wife and I, in a few minutes. Shall I ask for you personally?"

"Yes, please do," said the other. "My name is Markie."

Paul left the telephone booth and walked happily back to Patricia. The pleasant white-haired man who had given up his table for them was also returning from somewhere to his own seat. Paul and he smiled warmly at each other as they sat down.

"Yes, my dear!" said Paul, taking Patricia's hand and squeezing it. "We've got a room. We don't have to sleep in the car."

"Thank goodness!" said Patricia. "I've just heard that it's begun to freeze outside. I suppose one could sleep in a car, but I hate to think of the condition one would be in, in the morning. Well done, Paul!"

He signalled to the waitress. "A bill, please. And have you any idea where the Hotel Stefani is, please?"

The waitress stared. "The Hotel Stefani, sir?"

"Yes, the Hotel Stefani. It's somewhere in the centre, isn't it?"

The waitress smiled. "Yes, sir, it is somewhere in the centre. This is it, sir."

"What did you say?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He heard Patricia chuckle.

"This," said the waitress, "is the Hotel Stefani, sir." He looked steadily at the girl for a long moment, and then smiled. Patricia, beside him, began to shake with helpless laughter. "Be quiet, you” he murmured, and turned back to the waitress. "Is it really! Well, I should like to speak to Mr. Markie, please. He's expecting us."

"One moment, sir," said the waitress, and looked round her. "He's here somewhere, I know. He was called to the telephone a few moments ago, and — oh, yes sir, there he is, just behind you." And she nodded towards the pleasant middle-aged man with white hair at the next table.

 Explanatory Notes

St. Moritz — a resort town in the Engadine valley in Switzerland.

Zurich — is the largest city in Switzerland and the capital of the canton of Zurich. It is located in north-central Switzerland at the northwestern tip of Lake Zurich.

Thank heavens! / Thank goodness! — used to show that you are very glad about something.

Be quiet, you! — used to show a polite reprimand on a speaker`s part and a request to calm down.

Is it really! — used to express the feeling of surprise when something becomes evident to a speaker.