He wore a drab gray coat, a satin waistcoat, and a pair of gray trousers, gray stockings, shoes with buckles, and a three-cornered hat.
In descending, he knocked his head against the top of the door, and his hat fell off. His hair was in tresses on the top of his head, and was fixed there with an ivory comb.
In a word, his costume corresponded with the title of a steward, which he bore in the passport of Madame Korff.
I picked up the hat, and handed it to him.
The Queen descended next, and after her, Madame Royale and the Dauphin, who was disguised as a little girl; then came Madame Elizabeth, and, last, Madame de Tourzel.
Sauce had opened wide the door of his shop, and passed all sorts of compliments on the King whom he persisted in calling “your Majesty,” though the King equally persisted that his name was M. Durand.
The Queen had not the courage to support this humiliating assumption.
“Well, then,” said she, “if monsieur is your King, and I your Queen, treat us with the respect that our rank demands.”
At these words, the King was ashamed, and said, “Very well, I am your King; there is your Queen, and there are our children.”