"It's Tellier," he said. "I was expecting him; he was certain to come to
us. Leave him to me," and he went out, closing the door behind him.
Monsieur Tellier was even more effulgent than usual. There was upon his
face a smile of supreme self-satisfaction. He had reason to believe that
he had achieved a good stroke, and he was resolved to make the most of
it. He had dreamed dreams and seen visions--one vision in particular
which included within the same circumference himself and a certain frail
fairy of the Robiniere who had always regarded him with disdain. Now all
that was to be changed! So he greeted Collins with a self-assurance and
aplomb quite removed from his ordinary manner.
Collins confronted him with the card still between his fingers, and
returned his greeting with the utmost coldness.
"You wished to see me?" he asked.
"Pardon," corrected Tellier, "it is Lord Vernon I wish to see."
"Lord Vernon is ill and sees no one."
Tellier gave his mustachios a supercilious twirl.
"You still maintain that farce?" he queried. "I assure you that for me
it has long since lost its novelty."
Collins took a step toward the door.
"Shall I show you out?" he asked.
"No--not yet," and Tellier smiled provokingly.
"You would really better let me show you out," said Collins, quietly.
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