CHAPTER IX.
Mr Bunker arrived at the Hôtel Mayonaise in what, from his appearance, was an unusually reflective state of mind for him. The other visitors, many of whom had begun to regard him and his noble friend with great interest, saw him pass through the crowd in the hall and about the lifts with a thoughtful air. He went straight to the Baron’s room. Outside the door he paused for an instant to set his face in a cheerful smile, and then burst gaily in upon his friend.
“Well, my dear Baron!” he cried, “what luck in the Park?”
The Baron was pulling his moustache over an English novel. He laid down his book and frowned at Mr Bunker.
“I do not onderstand your English vays,” he replied.
Mr Bunker perceived that something was very much amiss, nor was he without a suspicion of the cause. He laughed, however, and asked, “What’s the matter, old man?”
“I vent to ze Park,” said the Baron, with a solemn deliberation that evidently came hardly to him. “I [pg 121] entered ze Park. I vas dressed, as you know, viz taste and appropriety. I vas sober, as you know. I valked under ze trees, and I looked agreeably at ze people. Goddam!”
“My dear Baron!” expostulated Mr Bunker.
The Baron resumed his intense composure with a great effort.
“Not long vas ven I see ze Lady Hilton drive past mit ze ozzer Lady Hilton and vun old lady. I raise my hat—no bow from zem. ‘Pairhaps,’ I zink, ‘zey see me not.’ Zey stop by ze side to speak viz a gentleman. I gomed up and again I raise my hat and I say, ‘How do you do, Lady Hilton? I hope you are regovered from ze dance.’ Zat was gorrect, vas it not?”