"I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Monsieur," said he, "in
circumstances somewhat different."
"I remember perfectly," said I.
"And your charming but inexperienced little friend--is he well?"
"He is at present decorating my room with photographs of Madame's late
horse, Sultan," said I.
He was startled, and gave me a quick, sharp look. I did not notice it
at the time, but I remembered it later. Then he broke into an indulgent
laugh.
"The poor animal!" He turned to Lola. "How jealous I used to be of him!
And how quickly the time flies. But give yourself the trouble of seating
yourself, Monsieur."
He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished manner
and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he paid court
to Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and possessed
considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions had coarsened
his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a shiftiness of
glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were responsible for
the nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck.
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