"Quite too prettily. 'Come, Colonel Bernheim,' she said, looking me
straight in the eyes, and smiling sweetly enough to turn most any man's
head, 'you want to refuse to let me see the Marshal, but, you know
perfectly well, you dare not. He might be glad for a word with me in
private; and then, again, he might not--but you don't know and you are
afraid to risk it. _Voilà_!' And then she laughed."
"Well," said I, "I can't imagine what she wants, but you may admit
her--Stay a moment--could you manage to overhear the conversation?"
"Only by leaving the door ajar."
"Well, do what you can," I said.
I was curious by what name he would announce the lady; but he used
none. He simply swung back the door and spoke into the outer room:
"Madame, His Royal Highness will receive you."
"You are most kind, Colonel Bernheim," she said, in her sweetest tones,
as she passed him; "I owe you many thanks."
"You owe me none, madame," was the rather gruff answer.
Then he went out, and closed the door with altogether unnecessary vigor.
She turned and looked after him.
"What a great bear he is, Armand," she said, with a confidential air.