Guggle and Winkle immediately rushed at him and bore him in triumph to be introduced to Mademoiselle.
For the first time, Anthony felt a qualm. Mademoiselle Brun was a small, middle-aged woman with a sallow face, pepper and salt hair, and a budding moustache!
As the notorious foreign adventuress she did not fit into the picture at all.
“I believe,” said Anthony to himself, “I’m making the most utter fool of myself. Never mind, I must go through with it now.”
He was extremely pleasant to Mademoiselle, and she, on her part, was evidently delighted to have a good-looking young man invade her schoolroom. The meal was a great success.
But that evening, alone in the charming bedchamber that had been allotted to him, Anthony shook his head several times.
“I’m wrong,” he said to himself. “For the second time, I’m wrong. Somehow or other, I can’t get the hang of this thing.”
He stopped in his pacing of the floor.
“What the devil—” began Anthony.
The door was being softly opened. In another minute a man had slipped into the room, and stood deferentially by the door.
He was a big fair man, squarely built, with high Slavonic cheekbones, and dreamy fanatic eyes.
“Who the devil are you?” asked Anthony, staring at him.
The man replied in perfect English.