Not he! On the contrary, he tucked his umbrella more firmly under his arm, and turned to Mademoiselle W——: "Have you got a register?" taking her, no doubt, for la dame du comptoir.
Mademoiselle draped herself in her most Rachel-like attitude and glanced knowingly at the hot-air flue which she had been told was a register.
"We have," she answered curtly, wondering if this extraordinary creature could be suffering from cold on this warm spring day.
"I had better write my name down!" This was too much! Mademoiselle thought now that he was not only a burglar, but a lunatic.
"I think," I said, "I can give you the address of a very nice maid," trying to lead him back into the paths we had trodden before.
"Oh! that'll be all right. You have perhaps a maid in the house?"
"Certainly we have," answered Mademoiselle with asperity, giving her velvet bow an agitated pat.
"Money is no object," continued he; "I'm always willing to pay what one asks." Mademoiselle now thought he was drunk and was for sending for the servants.
I asked him, "How is the baby?"
"Oh! baby's all right. The nurse has been a little upset by the journey.
You might give us the address of your doctor."