The painter's eyes gleamed. But he kept his temper pretty well, considering.
"You appear to have been taught singularly ill manners in your native country, sir. I will endeavour to teach you better manners here. Are you going? Or must I eject you?"
"Polison!"
That was M. Berigny's answer. There was just a momentary hesitation. Then, grasping M. Berigny firmly by the shoulders, Mr. Lovell began to move him, more rapidly than gently, in the direction of the door. The Vicomte came forward, with the evident intention of interposing. There would probably have been a slightly undignified scramble had not a diversion been created by the opening of the door, and the entrance of Mr. Warren. That gentleman glanced from one person to another.
"I beg your pardon," he observed. "I hope I don't intrude!"
Mr. Lovell laughed, a little forcedly. His complexion was distinctly ruddy.
"Not at all! I wish you had come in sooner. The most ridiculous thing has happened."
"Indeed! I have an eye for the ridiculous."
"You know that picture of mine, 'A Vision of the Night'?"
"I've heard of it."