“He does, ma’am.” “Why? Is he in a play or a circus of some sort?” “No. He’s a knight.” “I see. And who’s that?” Betty inquired about a portly, well-dressed Mexican who was puffing behind Don Quixote. “I haven’t met him, but I believe that is Sancho Panza, his squire.” “Squire, huh? Someone else with a screw loose?” Alice grabbed Betty’s hand. “Oh, do let’s go downstairs and welcome him! You’ll just adore him.” Presently, Alice and Betty were dawdling in the hotel foyer some distance behind Don Quixote as he wrangled with the baffled desk clerk. “I am here to deliver the captives from this bastion of fear!” he was saying. “This is the Comfort Convenience Hotel, sir,” said the desk clerk, discreetly picking up the phone. “Who are you calling?” asked the Mexican man who was standing beside Quixote. “An emergency number, Mr. Panza, sir.” “¿Porqué?” “Well, your friend seems to be … er … disturbed. Just hotel policy.” “It won’t be necessary,” said Sancho. “Alonso is far from disturbed. He is here on a mission, and is a personal friend of Mr. Goldstone, who I believe resides here. Takes the whole upstairs suite, am I right?” The unsettled desk clerk put down the phone, and while Sancho talked with him, Don Quixote turned about and his eyes fell on Alice and Betty. He approached them and knelt before Alice. “Your Majesty.” “Arise, sir, and meet…” “I know, Your Majesty,” he said with a sigh. Putting a hand to his breast, he looked dreamily into Betty’s eyes and softly said, “Dulcinea.” Alice stifled a giggle. “Name’s Betty Trucker, mister. Nice try.” Quixote shook his head. “I know thee as Dulcinea. …” “I also believe you know this here li’l girl as Alice,” said Betty. “From back there at the cuckoo…” “Castle, ma’am,” said Don Quixote. “From which I escaped with the help of my faithful squire. And yes, I have the honour to be acquainted with her majesty. But little did I know just how noble and beautiful her lady-in-waiting would be.” “This is cuckoo,” said Betty. “Let’s go, Alice.” “Wait, ma’am, you’ll see,” said Alice. “Mr. Quixote, I notice you had your base … er … helmet made. It’s extremely becoming.”
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