"And the boy?"
"He is sick and has retired; but if you desire it, you shall see him."
"No need—a boy is no great matter"; and the courteous official, with a bow that would have graced a D'Orsay, was gone.
To the Grand Opera House, the largest in the world, I bent my steps, and in an hour was revelling in Mme. Garcia's thrilling notes, when a hand was laid on my shoulder and a grim, moustached, soldier-like fellow whispered in my ear:
"Your passport, Herr Engländer."
"It is gone to the police bureau to be visé. I sent it from the Hôtel d'Hollande by an officer."
For the moment he withdrew, and burning with shame, for every eye was upon me, I turned defiantly to the stage.
"Will the Herr ride or walk?" came again the voice in my ear.
"What do you mean?"
"The Herr must go immediately to the Hôtel d'Hollande. That is all."