He caught up a wine list and came to our table.

Once more, before he spoke, he looked behind to where Bartot's back was still turned.
"For monsieur," he whispered, setting the wine list upon the table, and under it the note.
I nodded, and he hastened away.

At that moment Bartot turned and came down the room.

As he approached he looked at me once more, as though, for some reason or other, he was more than ordinarily interested in my presence.

It may have been my fancy, but I thought, also, that he looked at the wine card stretched out before me.
"Be careful!" Louis whispered.