de Ventadour began with a sort of bow, and when it dropped in the almost invariable conclusion affirmative of his shrewdness and incredulity, he made a mystical sign with his forefinger by passing it upward in a parallel line with his nose, which at the same time performed its own part in the ceremony by three convulsive twitches, that seemed to shake the bridge to its base.
Maltravers looked with mute surprise upon the connubial partner of the graceful creature by his side, and Mons.

de Ventadour, who had said as much as he thought necessary, wound up his eloquence by expressing the rapture it would give him to see Mons.

Maltravers at his hotel.

Then, turning to his wife, he began assuring her of the lateness of the hour, and the expediency of departure.

Maltravers glided away, and as he regained the door was seized by our old friend, Lumley Ferrers.