"Well, but—"
"You see, vicomte, my hand is almost crushed, and because I was not prepared for it, I gave a slight cry. Who would have thought that such a fine, white, delicate hand could give you a squeeze like a piston-rod?"
Spero looked wonderingly at his hands, and then dreamily said:
"I am stronger than I thought."
"I think so, too," said Coucou. "Only the count understands how to squeeze one's hand in that way. I almost forgot to ask you, vicomte, where you intend to take breakfast?"
"Downstairs in the dining-room."
"Are you going to breakfast alone?"
"That depends. Perhaps one of my friends may drop in, though I haven't invited any one."
"Please ring the bell in case you want to be served," said Coucou, as he left the room.