"I can speak a little English," he said, fluently enough, though to Janet's ears the accent sounded rather German.
Then he and Cophetua rapidly exchanged a few sentences in French. From the latter's frigid manner, nothing was plainer than that he regarded the stranger's mediation with extreme distaste.
"He merely wishes to know whether you are seeking a position," said Janet's self-appointed interpreter.
"How could I be? I don't know a word of the language, as you can see," she said, with one of her fascinating gestures.
This reply was duly conveyed to the chief of the employment bureau who, with a thousand daggers in his parting smile, withdrew majestically into his shell.
"It is impossible to know the reason for a mistake so deplorable," said he of the auburn beard, apologizing for Cophetua.
He lifted his hat again, and made as if to go. But he did not go.
"Oh, I don't mind a bit," said Janet, laughing unaffectedly. "If only I knew French, I should like nothing better than to take some position or other."
For a second, they looked into each other's eyes with mutual approval. Then he said boldly:
"In that case—would you like to be—what do the English call it—tutor to my little girl?"