" "Then you're heartily welcome, Sir, whoever you are. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. I said to myself, ‘this will come. ‘They cannot be worse than mine in English, monsieur. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout.
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