THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
"And so had I," I said.
He turned and faced me.
"Hoped," I continued, raising my voice, "that you might enter here, and leave your servant somewhere else. I have wanted to have a quiet talk with you this morning."
If he noted anything unusual in my request, he did not show it, not so much as by a flicker of an eyelash.
"I has hardly been opportune for conversation," he admitted. "But now, as you say, Brutus is gone. He is out to receive a message I am expecting, which can hardly be delivered at the front door. You were saying—Doubtless Mademoiselle will pardon us"
"Mademoiselle," I went on, "will even be interested. I have wanted to speak to you so that I might explain myself. Since I have been here I fear I have been impulsive. You must lay it to my youth, father."
He nodded a grave assent.
"You must not apologize. It has been quite refreshing."
"And yet I am not so young. I am twenty-three."
"Can it be possible?" exclaimed my
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