We felt his presence like a cold shadow.

The laughter died away from her eyes, and I found it difficult enough to address him civilly.
"Monsieur is well served ?" he asked.

"Everything all right, eh ?" "Everything is very good, as usual, Louis," I answered.

"The only thing that is amiss you cannot alter." "For example ?" he asked.
"The atmosphere," I answered.

"It is no weather for London." "Monsieur is right," he admitted.