"That is enough."
The commissary made some notes as to the condition and arrangement of
the rooms. As he was finishing writing, the minister, who had finished
dressing, and was waiting with his greatcoat over his arm and his hat in
his hand, said: "Have you still need of me, sir? What am I to do? Can I
withdraw?"
Du Roy turned towards him, and smiling insolently, said: "Why so? We
have finished. You can go to bed again, sir; we will leave you alone."
And placing a finger on the official's arm, he continued: "Let us
retire, Mr. Commissary, we have nothing more to do in this place."
Somewhat surprised, the commissary followed, but on the threshold of the
room George stopped to allow him to pass. The other declined, out of
politeness. Du Roy persisted, saying: "Pass first, sir."
"After you, sir," replied the commissary.
The journalist bowed, and in a tone of ironical politeness, said: "It is
your turn, sir; I am almost at home here."
Then he softly reclosed the door with an air of discretion.
An hour later George Du Roy entered the offices of the _Vie Francaise_.
Monsieur Walter was already there, for he continued to manage and
supervise with solicitude his paper, which had enormously increased in
circulation, and greatly helped the schemes of his bank. The manager
raised his head and said: "Ah! here you are. You look very strange. Why
did you not come to dinner with us? What have you been up to?"