"Surely it's Monsieur Sennier!" exclaimed Charmian.
As she spoke, the door opened and the composer entered, pushing past Pierre, whose thin face wore an outraged look.
"Me voici!" he exclaimed. "Deserted, abandoned, I come to you. How can I eat alone in a hotel? It is impossible! I tried. I sat down. They brought me caviare, potage. I looked, raised my fork, my spoon. Impossible! Will you save me from myself? See, I am in my smoking! I shall not disgrace you."
"Of course! Pierre, please lay another place. But who has abandoned you?"
"Everyone—Henriette, Adelaide, even the faithful Max. They would have taken me, but I refused to go."
"Where to?"
"Batna, Biskra, que sais-je? Adelaide is restless as an enraged cat!"
He sat down, and began greedily to eat his soup.
"Ah, this is good! Your cook is to be loved. For once—may I?"
Glancing up whimsically, almost like a child, he lifted his napkin toward his collar.