See--have you a pin? I myself will fix it for you."
While he was searching my table for pins the chasseur of the hotel came
with a message from Madame Brandt. Would Monsieur come at once to Madame
in her private room?
"I'll come now," I said. "Professor, you must excuse me."
"Don't mention it. I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the
most artistic way possible."
So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task of
pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall,
and went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the
corridors to Lola's apartments.
She rose to meet me as I entered.
"It's very kind of you to come," she said in her fluent but Britannic
French. "May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde."
Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows. I noticed at once that he wore
the Frenchman's costume when he pays a _visite de ceremonie_, frock-coat
and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table. I was glad that he
paid her this mark of respect.
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