“Ah!” he muttered, “if it came to that⁠—if Miss Lucy meddled with his bonnet-grec ⁠—she might just put it on herself, turn garçon for the occasion, and benevolently go to the Athénée in his stead.”

With great respect, I laid the bonnet on the desk, where its tassel seemed to give me an awful nod.

“I’ll write a note of apology⁠—that will do!” said he, still bent on evasion.