Would Monsieur come at once to Madame in her private room?
"I'll come now," I said.

"Professor, you must excuse me." "Don't mention it.

I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the most artistic way possible." So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task of pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall, and went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the corridors to Lola's apartments.
She rose to meet me as I entered.
"It's very kind of you to come," she said in her fluent but Britannic French.

"May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde." Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows.

I noticed at once that he wore the Frenchman's costume when he pays a _visite de ceremonie_, frock-coat and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table.