That is a regular swell fashion, so the waiter at Potier's told me, and was introduced into Paris by a Russian." Mascarin closed his eyes and answered languidly, "Go on." "Well, sir, there was one gent who was a blot on the whole affair.

He was tall, shabbily dressed, and with no manners at all.

He seemed all the time to be sneering at the rest.

But didn't Madame make up to him just.

She kept heaping up his plate and filling his glass.