He was plainly much upset; his elegant waistcoat seemed to have assumed careworn creases, his mop of blonde hair was palpably rumpled as if he had been endeavouring to tear some of its wavy locks out by force.

And when he spoke his fat voice shook with a mixture of chagrin and anger.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I crave ten thousand--a million--pardons for this so-unheard-of state of affairs! The--the truth is, Mademoiselle de Longarde is not yet here.

What is more--I have to tell you the truth--Mademoiselle refuses to come--refuses to fulfil her honourable engagement.

We are--have been for some time--on the telephone with her.

Mademoiselle is at her hotel.