Among the latter may be classed Karl Steinmetz--the bluffest of the bluff--innocent even of his own innocence.
Karl Steinmetz in due course reached England, and in natural sequence the smoking-room--room B on the left as you go in--of the Talleyrand.
He was there one evening after an excellent dinner taken with humorous resignation, smoking the largest cigar the waiter could supply, when Claude de Chauxville happened to have nothing better or nothing worse to do.
De Chauxville looked through the glass door for some seconds.

Then he twisted his waxed mustache and lounged in.

Steinmetz was alone in the room, and De Chauxville was evidently--almost obviously--unaware of his presence.

He went to the table and proceeded to search in vain for a newspaper that interested him.

He raised his eyes casually and met the quiet gaze of Karl Steinmetz.
"Ah!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," said Steinmetz.
"You--in London ?" Steinmetz nodded gravely.
"Yes," he repeated.
"One never knows where one has you," Claude de Chauxville went on, seating himself in a deep arm-chair, newspaper in hand.