We walked right down to the balustrade overlooking the Seine. De Coigny mounted, sat on the balustrade, whistled, and as he sat kicking his heels he cast his eyes up and down me from crown to toe.
I stood before him with the seeming humility of the younger child; but my blood was boiling, and my knuckles itched at the sight of his flabby, pasty face.
Some trees sheltered us from the house, and my gentleman from the Bourdaloue College took a box of Spanish cigaritos from his pocket and a matchbox adorned with the picture of a ballet-girl.
He put a cigarito between his thick lips, lit it, blew a puff of smoke, and held out the box to me to have one. Fired with the manliness of the affair I put out my hand, and received, instead of a cigarito, a rap on the knuckles with his cane.
"That's to teach you not to smoke," said Mentor. "How old are you?"
"Nine," replied I. The blow hurt; but I put my hand in my pockets, and I think neither my voice nor my face betrayed my feelings.
"Nine. And what part of Germany do you come from?"
"I was last staying at the Castle of Lichtenberg."
"Aha!" said the gentleman on the balustrade. "And who, may I ask, did we entertain at our Castle of Lichtenberg?"
"King William of Prussia," I replied out of my childish vanity, "the Count Feliciani, the great banker and——"