“Ah!” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” said Steinmetz.
“You—in London?”
Steinmetz nodded gravely.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“One never knows where one has you,” Claude de Chauxville went on, seating himself in a deep arm-chair, newspaper in hand. “You are a bird of passage.”
“A little heavy on the wing—now,” said Steinmetz.
He laid his newspaper down on his stout knees and looked at De Chauxville over his gold eye-glasses. He did not attempt to conceal the fact that he was wondering what this man wanted with him. The baron seemed to be wondering what object Steinmetz had in view in getting stout. He suspected some motive in the obesity.
“Ah!” he said deprecatingly. “That is nothing. Time leaves its mark upon all of us. It was not yesterday that we were in Petersburg together.”
“No,” answered Steinmetz. “It was before the German Empire—many years ago.”