Something in the quiet dignity of the young man held me.
He hesitated. He looked all round. I could see that he was making a great effort. The spirit of Paris battled against his better nature. He was tempted, but he didn't fall.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I'd like to take it, but I'm afraid I mustn't."
"Young man," I said, "I respect your feelings. You have done me a service. If you ever fall into want and need a position in the Canadian Cabinet, or a seat in our Senate, let me know at once."
I left him.
Then by an odd chance, as I passed to the outer door, there was the British Ambassador himself. He was standing beside the door waiting to open it. There was no mistaking him. I could tell by his cocked hat and brass buttons and the brass chain across his chest that it was the Ambassador. The way in which he swung the door back and removed his hat showed him a trained diplomat.
The moment had come. I still held my ten cents.
"My lord," I said, "I understand your position as the only man in Paris who must not accept a tip, but I insist."
I slipped the money into his hand.
"Thank'ee kindly, sir," said the Ambassador.