"And you think," he asked, "that this is a complete list?"
"Quite complete, I should say," said the man, "for Monsieur's purpose.
"Permit me to help Monsieur," he went on. "Monsieur will pardon me, but possibly this may be some romance."
He shrugged his shoulders, but with such an air of civility and respect that Verdayne could not quarrel with him.
"At any rate, it is not my business to inquire. For the time it is merely my end to serve Monsieur well. Be seated for a moment while I make coffee and bring rolls and butter. It will fortify Monsieur against the damp air."
Laughing a little, Paul suffered the man to bustle about. The fellow was deft indeed, and soon Verdayne was glad that he had listened to his counsel.
Midnight drew near and the porter turned the lights out, but Paul sat until cockcrow, smoking and pondering on the strange paths into which one's feet are sometimes led.
Shortly after eight, the man, who had been busy cleaning boots, returned and made a gesture towards the sunlight, which was streaming into the room.