“You will not find me wanting in courage, Monsieur. There is another small favour I would ask of you. Will you bring some of your visiting-cards?”
“With pleasure,” said I.
At that moment the gong clanged loudly through the hotel.
“It is your dinner-hour,” said the dwarf. “I depart. Our rendezvous—”
“Let us have no rendezvous, my dear Professor,” I interposed. “What more simple than that you should do me the pleasure of dining with me here? We can thus fortify ourselves with food and drink for our adventure, and we can start on it comfortably together whenever it seems good to you.”
The little man put his head on one side and looked at me in an odd way.
“Do you mean,” he asked in a softened voice, “that you ask me to dine with you in the midst of your aristocratic compatriots?”
“Why, evidently,” said I, baffled. “It's only an ordinary table d'hote dinner.”
To my astonishment, tears actually spurted out of the eyes of the amazing little creature. He took my hand and before I knew what he was going to do with it he had touched it with his lips.
“My dear Professor!” I cried in dismay.