The inns at Tours are in another quarter, and one of them, which is
midway between the town and the station is very good. It is worth mentioning for the fact
every one belonging to it is extraordinarily polite—so unnaturally polite as at first
to excite your suspicion that the hotel has some hidden vice, so that the waiters and
chambermaids are trying to pacify you in advance. There was one waiter in especial who was
the most accomplished social being I have ever encountered; from morning till night he
kept up an inarticulate murmur of urbanity, like the hum of a spinning-top. I may add that
I discovered no dark secrets at the Hôtel de l’Univers; for it is not a secret to
any traveler today that the obligation to partake of a lukewarm dinner in an overheated
room is as imperative as it is detestable...
Henry James: "Tours" from A Little Tour in France
(1885).
In the house Jelka was remarkable. No matter what time Jim came in from
the hot dry range or from the bottom farm land, his dinner was exactly, steamingly ready
for him. She watched while he ate, and pushed the dishes close when he needed them, and
filled his cup when it was empty.
John Steinbeck: "The Murder" from The Long Valley (1938).
