“Ah! monsieur, I do not know, but you could ask him. He is the head of a famous firm in Paris,” and he gave me his address.
The concierge who ushered me the following day into the private office of the head of the firm in question, informed me that monsieur would see me in half an hour. Could I wait? At the end of this time monsieur, an imposing looking man with a red ribbon in his buttonhole, entered the room with all the ceremonious courtesy found among Parisian men of affairs.
We both bowed low and he motioned me to a Louis XVI. chair.
“Now, monsieur, I am at your disposal.”
I explained to him that I had not come to transact affairs affecting the credit of Russia or to merge anything of any kind.
“Then it is not in business that I have the honor of your visit, monsieur?”
“Monsieur,” I said, “I simply want to rent your boat.”
“Tiens, have I a boat?”
“Yes,” I reminded him, “at the builder’s, below your country place at Chatou.”
“Ah! yes,” and he laughed heartily. “Yes! yes! so I have, I had almost forgotten it; it has been so long since I have been there. It was the green one you liked?”