M. Berigny's accent was more marked than the Vicomte's, but still he did speak English.
"I thank you, Victor. It remains for me to once more request, in your presence, Mr. Gerald Lovell to explain how it was that he happened to dream of the face of my wife last August, in the Hôtel de Flandre, at Spa. Mr. Gerald Lovell, I have the honour to await your explanation."
The Vicomte, his arms crossed upon his chest, his left foot a little protruding, his head thrown back, awaited the explanation.
Mr. Lovell's thoughts ran screenwards.
"What the deuce shall I do if he discovers her behind the screen?"
"Monsieur, I am waiting."
"If he does discover her--there'll be a row."
"I still am waiting, Mr. Gerald Lovell."
With each repetition of the statement the Vicomte's tone became more acidulated. The artist arrived at a sudden resolution.
"Then I am afraid, Vicomte, that you will have to wait."