The unknown returned the salutation with much urbanity and self-possession.
M. Anspach, this duty to politeness performed, mechanically as it were, drew his hat down over his eyes and made a step forward.
At this gesture his rival smiled, and looked around him as if to make his visiter comprehend that it was impossible from the narrowness of his quarters to offer him hospitality.
M. Anspach observing this pantomime, smiled also, but it was a bitter smile. He made increditable efforts to recover his voice.
“I believe I see in you a lover of the Tuileries,” observed he of the blue coat, bowing gracefully, “and that you have come, like myself, to enjoy here the fine weather?”
“It is three months since I have enjoyed it, sir,” the choking major answered, rolling his eyes.
“True—I have remarked your absence.”
“Ah!” growled M. Anspach de Phalsbourg.
That “ah!” was a little fiendish.
“You appear to suffer,” rejoined he of the blue coat, “and are fatigued,” he added, without offering, however, to yield his seat.