"That is enough."
The commissary made some notes as to the condition and arrangement of the rooms. As he was finishing writing, the minister, who had finished dressing, and was waiting with his greatcoat over his arm and his hat in his hand, said: "Have you still need of me, sir? What am I to do? Can I withdraw?"
Du Roy turned towards him, and smiling insolently, said: "Why so? We have finished. You can go to bed again, sir; we will leave you alone." And placing a finger on the official's arm, he continued: "Let us retire, Mr. Commissary, we have nothing more to do in this place."
Somewhat surprised, the commissary followed, but on the threshold of the room George stopped to allow him to pass. The other declined, out of politeness. Du Roy persisted, saying: "Pass first, sir."
"After you, sir," replied the commissary.
The journalist bowed, and in a tone of ironical politeness, said: "It is your turn, sir; I am almost at home here."
Then he softly reclosed the door with an air of discretion.
An hour later George Du Roy entered the offices of the Vie Francaise. Monsieur Walter was already there, for he continued to manage and supervise with solicitude his paper, which had enormously increased in circulation, and greatly helped the schemes of his bank. The manager raised his head and said: "Ah! here you are. You look very strange. Why did you not come to dinner with us? What have you been up to?"
The young fellow, sure of his effect, said, emphasizing every word: "I have just upset the Minister of Foreign Affairs."
The other thought he was joking, and said: "Upset what?"