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Updated: June 6, 2025
"There's only one language for me, and that's English." "Merci! You Anglaises are so conceit'! How you like me to teach you French, eh, M'sieu Zhames?" "Not for me," shaking his head. She was very pretty, and under ordinary circumstances . . . He did not finish the thought, but I will for him. Under ordinary circumstances, M'sieu Zhames would have kissed her. "No teach you French? Non?
"Look here, Peter, you broil your partridges and flavor your soups, but keep out of the stables, or, in your own words, I keel you or keek you out. You tell the scullery maid to clear off the table. I'm off duty for the rest of the night. Now, then, allons! Marche!" And M'sieu Zhames gently but firmly and steadily pushed the scandalized Pierre out of the room and closed the door in his face.
I shall leave Mr. Robert, or M'sieu Zhames, to recover his tranquillity, and describe to you the character and quality of the guests. There was the affable military attache of the British embassy, there was a celebrated American countess, a famous dramatist and his musical wife, Warburton's late commanding colonel, Mrs.
Tramping restlessly up and down before my bachelor apartment house I discerned M'sieu Zhames. His face was pale and troubled, but the angle of his jaw told me that he had determined upon something or other. "Ha!" I said railingly. He wore a decently respectable suit of ready- made clothes. "Lost your job and want me to give you a recommendation?"
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