ameliorate his fate if it were in my power. I expressed these feelings in my answer.“I thank you,” he replied, “for your sympathy, but it is useless; my fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall repose in peace. I understand your feeling,” continued he, perceiving that I wished to interrupt him; “but you are mistaken, my friend, if thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny; listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined.”He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day when I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. I have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest pleasure; but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own lips — with what interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future day! Even now, as I commence my task, his full — toned voice swells in my ears; his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness; I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within.Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it — thus!Chapter 1I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counsellors and syndics, and my father had filled several public situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family.As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a proud and unbending disposition and could not bear to live in poverty and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship and was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in endeavouring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world again through his credit and assistance. Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal

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Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,bob软件下载软件下载Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. HeWhatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He

Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,bob客户端下载Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. Hebobapp综合下载

Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,bobapp手机端下载Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He

Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,bob软件下载件下载,bobapp体育下载Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He

Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He,bob棋牌是真人的吗Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. Hebob sport网页登录,Whatevercriticisms might be leveled nowadays at the way the St. Gregory was run,to Warren Trent it was more than a hotel; it had been his lifetime'swork. He had seen it grow from insignificance to prominence, from amodest initial building to a towering edifice occupying most of a cityblock. The hotel's reputation, too, had for many years been high, itsname ranking nationally with traditional hostelries like the Biltmore,or Chicago's Palmer House or the St. Francis in San Francisco. It mustbe hard to accept that the St. Gregory, for all the prestige and glamourit once enjoyed, had slipped behind the times. It was not that theslippage had been final or disastrous, Peter thought. New financing anda firm, controlling hand on management could work wonders, even, perhaps,restoring the hotel to its old competitive position. But as things were,both the capital and control would have to come from outside-he supposedthrough Curtis O'Keefe. Once more Peter was reminded that his own dayshere might well be numbered.The hotel proprietor asked, "What's our convention situation?""About half the chemical engineers have checked out; the rest will beclear by today. Coming in-Gold Crown Cola is in and organized. They'vetaken three hundred and twenty rooms, which is better than we expected,and we've increased the lunch and banquet figures accordingly." As theolder man nodded approval, Peter continued, "The Congress of AmericanDentistry begins tomorrow, though some of their people checked inyesterday and there'll be more today. They should take close to twohundred and eighty rooms."Warren Trent gave a satisfied grunt. At least, he reflected, the news wasnot all bad. Conventions were the lifeblood of hotel business and twotogether were a help,70 Tuesdaythough unfortunately not enough to offset other recent losses. All thesame, the dentistry convention was an achievement. Young McDermott hadacted promptly on a hot tip that earlier arrangements by the DentalCongress had fallen through, and had flown to New York, successfullyselling New Orleans and the St. Gregory to the convention organizers."We had a full house last night," Warren Trent said. He added, "In thisbusiness it's either feast or famine. Can we handle today's arrivals?""I checked on the figures first thing this morning. There should beenough checkouts, though it'll be close. Our over-bookings are a littlehigh."Like all hotels, the St. Gregory regularly accepted more reservationsthan it had rooms available. But also like all hotels, it gambled on thecertain foreknowledge that some people who made reservations would failto show up, so the problem resolved itself into guessing the truepercentage of non-arrivals. Most times, experience and luck allowed thehotel to come out evenly, with all rooms occupied-the ideal situation.But once in a while an estimate went wrong, in which event the hotel wasseriously in trouble.The most miserable moment in any hotel manager's life was explaining toindignant would-be guests, who held confirmed reservations, that noaccommodation was available. He

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