"And as she had the effrontery to tell me," he added.
I laughed. "And did it very prettily, too, I'll wager."
"Quite too prettily. 'Come, Colonel Bernheim,' she said, looking me straight in the eyes, and smiling sweetly enough to turn most any man's head, 'you want to refuse to let me see the Marshal, but, you know perfectly well, you dare not. He might be glad for a word with me in private; and then, again, he might not—but you don't know and you are afraid to risk it. Voilà!' And then she laughed."
"Well," said I, "I can't imagine what she wants, but you may admit her—Stay a moment—could you manage to overhear the conversation?"
"Only by leaving the door ajar."
"Well, do what you can," I said.
I was curious by what name he would announce the lady; but he used none. He simply swung back the door and spoke into the outer room:
"Madame, His Royal Highness will receive you."
"You are most kind, Colonel Bernheim," she said, in her sweetest tones, as she passed him; "I owe you many thanks."
"You owe me none, madame," was the rather gruff answer.