The manager made a gesture of scorn and despair.
"Perhaps you'll tell us why you ordered a cigar and a whole bottle of _Veuve Clicquot_?" he asked.
"Don't go cross-examining _me_," roared the Grey One. "I know the ropes, so don't you forget it. Everybody knows that, in France, wine's cheaper than beer."
"That's it!" chuckled one of the young Englishmen gaily. "Wine's cheaper than beer, and therefore fizz is cheaper than bottled ale!"
"There you are!" cried the Grey One in triumph. "And as for your [----] old cigar, you don't have me there either. One of the fellows at our place came back from France only last week. At least, it was Holland he'd been to, but it's all the same. And what did he pay for the cigars he smuggled back? Three for tuppence! Beauties! Yet here it is in your [----] bill, 'Cigars, one franc.' I say it's----"
"You've said all I'm willing to listen to," retorted the manager, as the two young Englishmen went back to their feeding. "For the last time, are you going to pay?"
"I'll pay six francs and not a penny more," muttered the Grey One, distinctly frightened.
"You'll pay your bill," said the manager decidedly. "The total is thirty-one francs, seventy-five centimes. I can't have our guests annoyed by a minute's further argument. I recommend you to save yourself from very unpleasant consequences."
All the fight went out of the Grey One suddenly. He gazed wistfully at the door, which was still held in force by the menials. Then he fumbled in his pockets.
"I can't," he muttered sulkily. "I haven't got the money. I've only got twenty-four francs. And there'll be my bill at the Shevvle Daw."
"The Cheval d'Or!" echoed the manager. "If you're at the Cheval d'Or, what the deuce have you come lunching here for?"
"To meet some friends," said the Grey One brazenly. "They're staying in the hotel."
Within the next minute the two ladies' names would have been asked for, and, no doubt, the hard-pressed brute would have given mine. I pulled the door open wide, and stepped into the hall.
"I can't help hearing," I said. "You talk so loud. What ladies do you mean?"
He jumped. Then he stood stark, as if he had been struck by lightning.
"Perhaps Madame knows something of this affair," the manager began in French.