“I want him to meet you, lady.”
“But——”
Labotte was before them, speaking acidly.
“Your frien’ ’as nod seem to unnerstan’——”
“Address yourself to me,” said Kilmuir.
Labotte stared. Then he looked Nicholas up and down.
“I am nod a servant,” he said.
“No,” said the other. “I knew that by your coat.”
Labotte drew himself up.
“I do nod know ’oo you are,” he said loftily, “an’ I do nod gare, but eet ees good you shall know that in France when a gennelman ’as gommanded it was nod use to gommand the opposide in ’is faze. You ’af ’ear my frien’ dell that ’e was nod to be seen an’ then you mus’ put your lorng norse to a thing which ’as not belong to you at oll an’ make jus’ the same business as my frien’ ’as nod wand.”