This speech rendered literally as we now render it may give the idea of a somewhat vulgar speaker. But there was something in the man’s manner, in his smile, in his courtesy, which did not strike Graham as vulgar; on the contrary, he thought within himself, “How instinctive to all Frenchmen good breeding is!”
Before, however, Graham had time to explain to his amiable neighbour the politico-economical principle according to which England, growing no tobacco, had tobacco much better than France, which did grow it, a rosy middle-aged monsieur made his appearance, saying hurriedly to Graham’s neighbour, “I’m afraid I’m late, but there is still a good half-hour before us if you will give me my revenge.”
“Willingly, Monsieur Georges. Garcon, the dominos.”
“Have you been playing at billiards?” asked M. Georges.
“Yes, two games.”
“With success?”
“I won the first, and lost the second through the defect of my eyesight; the game depended on a stroke which would have been easy to an infant,—I missed it.”
Here the dominos arrived, and M. Georges began shuffling them; the other turned to Graham and asked politely if he understood the game.
“A little, but not enough to comprehend why it is said to require so much skill.”
“It is chiefly an affair of memory with me; but M. Georges, my opponent, has the talent of combination, which I have not.”