I rose to greet him.
"Signor Grandi," he said, "I trust you will pardon my intrusion.

I am much interested in your boy, the great tenor." "Sir," I replied, "the visit of a gentleman is never an intrusion.
Permit me to offer you a chair." He sat down, and crossed one thin leg over the other.

He was dressed in the height of the fashion; he wore patent-leather shoes, and carried a light ebony cane with a silver head.

His hat was perfectly new, and so smoothly brushed that it reflected a circular image of the objects in the room.

But he had a certain dignity that saved his foppery from seeming ridiculous.
"You are very kind," he answered.