All that I may see of Paris now is from the outside.

And there is no appeal!" "But what is the reason of it, Spencer?
What have you done?
How have you offended all these people ?" Spencer hesitated.
"I don't want you to blame yourself in any way, Duncombe," he said.

"You could not possibly have guessed the sort of thing you were up against.
But the fact remains that my offence is in having sent my friends to the Cafe Montmartre on your account, and in being suspected of rendering you further assistance in your search for those two marvellous young English people!" "You are not joking by any chance, are you ?" Duncombe asked gravely.
"The matter," Spencer replied, "does not appear to me to lend itself to anything of the sort." Duncombe buried his head in his hands for several moments.
"Great Heavens!" he murmured.

"Let me think! I can't tell you how sorry I am, old chap.

Can't the thing be explained?
As a matter of fact, you were discretion itself." "I don't want it explained," Spencer said, "even if it would do any good--which it wouldn't! I should have retired in any case in less than a year, and, as it is, I believe my successor is on his way over already.