A slender man, whose uniform fitted him as though it had been his skin, was sitting down beside me.

Unlike those who came before him, he had entered so quietly that I had not sensed his coming.

I heard the soldier call him Excellency; and I heard him tell the soldier not to give him any soup.

We swapped commonplaces, I telling him what my business there was; and for a little while he plied his knife and fork busily, making the heavy gold curb chain on his left wrist tinkle musically.
"I'm rather glad they did not get me this afternoon," he said as though to make conversation with a stranger.

"This is first-rate veal--better than we usually have here." "Get you ?" I said.