So we sat and drank grenadine syrup and water. He gave me the impression of a cropped lion sucking lollipops.
"It is peculiarly nasty and unsatisfying," he remarked after a sip, "but doubtless I shall get used to it. I shall have to get used to a devil of a lot of things, my son. As soon as the period of her widowhood has elapsed I hope to marry Madame de Verneuil."
"Marry Madame de Verneuil?" I cried, the possibility of such an occurrence never having crossed my mind.
"Why not? When two people of equal rank love and are free to marry, why should they not do so? Have you any objection?"
"No, Master," said I.
"I shall resume my profession," he announced, lighting a cigarette, "and in the course of a year or two regain the position to which an ancient Prix de Rome is entitled."
I was destined that day to go from astonishment to astonishment.
"You a Prix de Rome, Master?"
"Yes, my son, in Architecture."