"Bother etiquette! I'm beginning to sympathise with Davis!"
His vexation broke up in laughter.
"That's what she did. She sympathised with Davis and carried him off here."
Patrine said, a light breaking in on her:
"Why, of course, there would be a girl.... He'd hardly come to a place like this alone, would he?"
Some query in his look made her add hastily:
"What was she like?"
"Like.... The girl who's carried off Davis? ..." He reflected a moment. "Pretty and plump and fluffy, with a pair of goo-goo eyes! She's daughter or niece or something"—he boggled the explanation rather—"to the German chap who hired us the hangar at Drancy—if you can give that name to a ramshackle shed in a waste building-lot! And Davis—thundering good man, but once on a spree..." He whistled dismally. "If I could only get my claws on him! ..."
Here the uniformed official returned to the charge:
"Monsieur has found his friend—Monsieur has explained the situation. To enter the Salon de Danse with Madame is not permissible—in the costume Monsieur displays. No doubt Madame will understand!"