"Exactly so; and with an English milor your life is an easy one, Monsieur."
"Comme-ci! comme-ça!" nodded Achille deprecatingly.
"Le petit Anglais is very rich?" suggested Bénédict.
"Boundlessly so!" quoth the other, with conscious pride.
"Now, if perchance you could see your way to introducing me to Mme. Véronique. Eh? I have to pay full price for my Count's snuff, and he will have none but the best; but if I could get Mme. Véronique's protection----"
Achille's manner immediately changed at this suggestion, made with becoming diffidence; he drew back a few steps as if to emphasize the distance which must of necessity lie between supplicant and patron. He took a pinch of snuff, he blew his nose with stately deliberation--all in order to keep the petitioner waiting on tenterhooks.
Finally he drew up his scarlet and gold shoulders until they almost touched his ears.
"It will be difficult, very, very difficu