In the main salon I perceived sitting at a small table a short, squat
gentleman of the professional type. He had a red moustache, and was
engaged in eating something or another, while by his side sat a tall,
clean-shaven individual with whom he was carrying on a conversation in
French. Somehow the aspect of these two persons displeased me; yet I
decided, for all that, to light my cigarette at the candelabrum which
was standing before them. Looking from side to side, to avoid meeting
their gaze, I approached the table, and applied my cigarette to the
flame. When it was fairly alight, I involuntarily threw a glance at the
gentleman who was eating, and found his grey eyes fixed upon me with an
expression of intense displeasure. Just as I was turning away his red
moustache moved a little, and he said in French:
“I do not like people to smoke when I am dining, my good sir.”