I did not doubt it was Mrs. Spencer and Lotzen,
and I intended to let them know they were recognized.
As we neared each other, I halted and stared at them with the most
obvious deliberation. The gypsy made some remark to her companion, to
which he nodded. I had little notion they would address me; and,
certainly, none that they would stop. But, there (though whether it
was pure bravado or because my attitude was particularly irritating, I
know not), Lotzen gave me another surprise.
He paused in front of me and looked me over from head to foot.
"Monsieur seems interested," he said, making no effort to disguise his
tones.
I made no answer.
"And I hope monsieur will pardon me if I tell him his manners are
atrocious," he went on.
Again, no answer.
"Though, of course, no one could ever expect monsieur to understand
why," he continued.
Of a sudden, it dawned on my slow brain that Lotzen did not know
whether it was Moore or I that confronted him, and he wanted to hear my
voice. I saw no utility in obliging him; so, I stood impassive,
staring calmly at them.
Lotzen turned to his companion.
"Speak to him, mademoiselle," he said; "perchance the dulcet tones of
Beauty may move the Beast to speech.
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