Delhasse.
"Forgive me: I spoke to myself--a foolish habit," I rejoined, with a low bow and, I'm afraid, a rather malicious smile.

The old lady glared at me, bobbed her head the slightest bit in the world, and passed me by.
I went out into the sunshine, whistling merrily.

My good friend the waiter stood by the door.

His eyes asked me a question.
"She is much better," I said reassuringly.

And I walked out, still whistling merrily.
In truth I was very pleased with myself.