now why I chose that tune?"

"No, Master."

"Because twenty devils entered into me and played leapfrog over one
another."

"I am very fond of that little tune. It is so gay," said Blanquette, as
if she were introducing a fresh topic of conversation.

"I detest it," said my master.

The maitre d'hotel came up and asked that the chorus should be played
again as an encore. I fetched Paragot's drink and having set it down
beside him on the platform, went round with my tambourine. When I
reached the table at which the four new comers were seated I found that
they spoke English. They were a young man in a straw hat, a young girl,
a forbidding looking man of forty with a beaky nose, and the loveliest
lady I have ever seen in my life. She had the complexion of a sea-shell.
Her eyes were the blue of glaciers, and they shone cold and steadfast;
but her lips were kind. Her black hair under the large white tulle hat
had the rare bluish tinge, looking as if cigarette smoke had been blown
through it. Small and exquisitely made she sat the princess of my boyish
dreams.

"I call it a ripping tune," cried the young girl.

"I hate it more than any other tune in the world," said the lovely lady
with a shiver.

Her voice was like a peal of bells or running water or whatever silvery
sounding things you will.

"It is very absurd to have such prejudices," said the beaky-nosed man of
forty. He spoke like a Frenchman, and like a very disagreeable
Frenchman. How dared he address my princess in that tone?

I extended my tambourine.

"_Qu'est-ce que vous desirez?_" asked the straw-hatted young man in an
accent as Britannic as the main deck of the Bellerophon.

"Anything that the ladies will kindly give me, Sir," I replied in our
native tongue.

"Hullo! English? What are you knocking about France for?"

I glanced at the lovely lady. She was crumbling bread and not taking the
least notice of me. I was piqued.

"My Master thinks it the best way to teach me philosophy, Sir," said I
politely. If I had not learned much philosophy from him I had at least
learned politeness. The lady looked up with a smile. The young girl
exclaimed that either my remark or myself--I forget which--was ripping.
I paid little heed to her. I have always disregarded the people of one
adjective; they seem poverty-stricken to one who has sunned himself in
the wealth of Paragot's epithets.

"Your master is the gentleman in the pearl buttons?" enquired the you