He was accustomed to being appealed to in all matters pertaining to etiquette, to the toilet, to the latest cut in coats, and the procedure in duels.

Good-natured, foppish, and idle, he felt quite happy and in his element thus to be made chief organiser of the tragic farce, about to be enacted on the parquet floor of the gaming saloon.
He looked about the room for a while, scrutinising the faces of those around him.

The gilded youth was crowding round De Marny; a few older men stood in a group at the farther end of the room: to these the Marquis turned, and addressing one of them, an elderly man with a military bearing and a shabby brown coat: "Mon Colonel," he said, with another flourishing bow; "I am deputed by M.Deroulede to provide him with seconds for this affair of honour, may I call upon you to ..." "Certainly, certainly," replied the Colonel.

"I am not intimately acquainted with M.Deroulede, but since you stand sponsor, M.le Marquis ..." "Oh!" rejoined the Marquis, lightly, "a mere matter of form, you know.
M.Deroulede belongs to the entourage of Her Majesty.

He is a man of honour.