He exclaimed impatiently.

Apparently, to force his way through them, to cool his heels in an anteroom, did not appeal.

It was long past his luncheon hour and the restaurant of the Palace Hotel called him.

He gave a sharp order to the chauffeur.
"I go on to Brussels," he said.

"Desire you to accompany me ?" I did not know how to ask him in French not to make me laugh.