The young man turned half away and leaned on the balcony as if he were looking very earnestly for something in the direction of the Champs Elysées. Then he faced his companion suddenly and said,
"I think you had much better not have anything to do with me: I should only prove a bore to you, or to anybody."
"How is that?"
"Well—in short, I'm a man with a grievance."
"Ay, ay? What's your grievance? Whom has it to do with?"
The young man looked up quickly, as if he did not quite understand the brusque ways of his new acquaintance, who put his questions so directly. But the new acquaintance seemed good-humored and quite at his ease, and evidently had not the least idea of being rude or over-inquisitive. He had only the way of one apparently used to ordering people about.
"My grievance is against the Government," the young man said with a grave politeness, almost like self-assertion.
"Government here: in France?"
"Ay, ay? What have they been doing? You haven't invented anything—new cannon—flying machine—that sort of thing?"