The commissionaire preceded them, hat in hand, to the door.

A couple of waiters ushered them to the table which the Vicomte intimated by a gesture.
"I myself," he remarked, drawing off his gloves, "take nothing but absinthe.

What may I have the pleasure of ordering for you ?" Duncombe ordered a whisky and soda.
"I think," he said, "there is one thing which I ought to tell you at once.

I am being shadowed by the police.

The man who has just arrived, and who seems a little breathless, is, I believe, the person whose duty it is to dog my footsteps in the daytime." "What a pity!" the Vicomte murmured.