“Most kind. I will take vermouth, please.” He sat down. “You have seen we have new passenger?”
“Yes, Monsieur Mathis pointed him out to me.” He turned to the steward bringing him his whisky and ordered Mr. Kuvetli’s vermouth.
“He is Greek gentleman. Name of Mavrodopoulos. He is business man.”
“What business is he in?” Graham found, to his relief, that he could talk of Monsieur Mavrodopoulos quite calmly.
“That I do not know.”
“That I do not care,” said Josette. “I have just seen him. Ugh!”
“What’s the matter with him?”
“She likes only men who look clean and simple,” said José vindictively. “This Greek looks dirty. He would probably smell dirty too, but he uses a cheap perfume.” He kissed his fingers to the air. “Nuit de Petits Gars! Numero soixante-neuf! Cinq francs la bouteille.”
Madame Mathis’ face froze.
“You are disgusting, José,” said Josette. “Besides, your own perfume cost only fifty francs a bottle. It is filthy. And you must not say such things. You will offend Madame here who is not used to your jokes.”