"And you a German!" she sighed.
Henri appeared once more, and after him Estermen. Herr Freudenberg, with a word of excuse to his companion, turned to greet the newcomer.
"Well?"
Estermen stood quite close to the table. He was distinctly ill at ease.
"Herr Freudenberg," he said, "I have done my best. It was impossible for me to obtain an introduction to this customer."
"Impossible?" Herr Freudenberg repeated, his face suddenly becoming stony.
"Let me explain," Estermen continued hastily. "This customer arrived in Paris last night or early this morning. He was called upon at once by a lady who lives in the Avenue de St. Paul. She has told him a little story about me—I am sure of it. He has refused to make my acquaintance."
"And you were content?"
Estermen spread out his pudgy hands.
"What can one do?" he muttered. "The man is quick-tempered. He dined tonight in the country at the Maison Léon d'Or with madame. It was there that I sought an introduction with him. It was impossible for me to force myself."