The porter nodded assent.
“Who are they?” He slipped a coin into the porter’s hand.
“One of the family—for so his Serene Highness calls him.”
“H’m, indeed! A Vaufontaine, friend?”
“No, monsieur, a d’Avranche.”
“What d’Avranche? Not Prince Leopold John?”
“No, monsieur, the name is the same as his Highness’s.”
“Philip d’Avranche? Ah, from whence?”
“From Paris, monsieur, with his Highness.”
The visitor, whistling softly to himself, stood thinking a moment.