And then I have found—no, I am mistaken. My door, you will understand, is open. And as I have said these words, a large green parrot comes 'opping out. My assassin is nothing but a green parrot.
'Move and I shoot!' it has said to those gathered in the corridor. It then has bitten me in the 'and and passed on.
I am chagrined, monsieur. But only for a moment. Then I forget my chagrin. For a voice from a door that 'as opened says with joy, 'It is my Polly, which I 'ave this evening lost!'
I turn. I gasp for admiration. It is a beautiful lady in a pink dressing-gown which 'ave spoken these words.
She has looked at me. I 'ave looked at her. I forget everything but that she is adorable. I forget those who stand by. I forget that the parrot has bitten me in the 'and. I forget even that I am standing there in pyjamas, with on my feet nothing. I can only gaze at her and worship.
I have found words.
'Mademoiselle,' I have said, 'I am rejoiced that I have been the means of restoring to you your bird.'
She has thanked me with her eyes, and then with words also. I am bewitched. She is divine. I care not that my feet are cold. I could wish to stand there talking all night.
She has given a cry of dismay.
'Your 'and! It is wounded!'