He set a chair for Freddy as he spoke. He was smiling, but his bright eyes were wary, and there was a suggestion of tautness about him. He would have assisted Freddy to divest himself of his long coat, but Freddy shook his head, saying: “Don’t mean to make a long stay: got a great deal to do!”
The Chevalier bowed, and turned away to produce from a cupboard a bottle and two glasses. “You will, however, take a glass of madeira with me?”
“Do that with pleasure,” said Freddy. “Come to see you on a devilish ticklish business, d’Evron. Daresay you know what it is.”
“In effect,” said the Chevalier, after a momentary silence, “my cousin has told you certain things?”
“Knew ’em already,” replied Freddy. He added apologetically: “Been on the town for some time, y’know!”
“Quoi?” ejaculated the Chevalier, flushing. “There is, then, something in my ton, my tenue, which betrays me?”
“No, no, nothing like that!” Freddy assured him. “No need to take a pet! Thing is—well, it’s what I was saying to m’father t’other day: can’t be on the town without learning to know a flat from—” He broke off in some slight confusion, as the infelicitous nature of this reminiscence occurred to him.
The Chevalier burst out laughing. “Ah, I can supply the word! I become very much au fait with your idioms. You would say ‘from a leg,’ I think!”
“Well, I would,” owned Freddy. “It ain’t your ton. Dashed if I know what it is! Just thought you was a trifle smoky.”
“It is to be hoped that others are not so—how shall I say? —intelligent! Or have you come to threaten me with exposure?”