He came out immediately, furtively returning a toothpick
to his waistcoat pocket--a bald, stout gentleman of middle
age, dressed in loose gray clothes, with shrewd eyes, a
nose which his benevolence just saved from being hawk-like,
a bristling white mustache, and a pink double chin. It
rather pleased Frank Parke, who was born in Hammersmith,
to be so constantly taken for an American--presumably a
New Yorker.
"Monsieur--" began Elfrida a little formally. She would
not have gone on in French, but it was her way to use
this form with the men she knew in Paris, irrespective
of their nationality, just as she invariably addressed
letters which were to be delivered in Sparta, Illinois,
"a madame Leslie Bell, Avenue Columbia," of that
municipality.
"Miss Elfrida, I am delighted to see you," he interrupted
her, stretching out one hand and looking at his watch
with the other. "I am fortunate in having fifteen whole
minutes to put at your disposal At the end of that time
I have an appointment with a cabinet minister, who would
rather see the devil. So I most be punctual. Shall we
walk a bit along these dear boulevards, or shall I get
a fiacre? No? You're quite right--Paris was made for
eternal walking.
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