“You yourself,” said he, “supplied the gender.” 

 “But not in the first instance.” 

 “No, not in the first instance,” he agreed, and said no more. 

 “You don’t like the Ritz?” I asked after an interval, just to talk and be talked to. I was horribly bored, that is the truth, by my own society; and here was at least a compatriot to share some of its burden with me. 

 “I never said so,” he answered. “But I confess it is too sumptuous for me. I lodge at the Hôtel Montesquieu, if you would know.” 

 “Where is that, may I ask?” 

 “It is in the Rue Montesquieu, but a step from here.” 

 “I should like, if you don’t mind, to hear something of it. I am at the Ritz, true, but in a furiously economical mood.” 

 “Certainly,” he answered, with perfect good-humour. “It would not suit all people; it does not even figure in the guides; but for those of an unexacting disposition—well it might serve—to pass the time. You can have your good bedroom there and your adequate petit déjeuner—nothing more. For meals, there is a Duval’s across the road, or, more particularly, the Restaurant au Bœuf à la mode in the Rue de Valois close by, where such delicacies may be tasted as sole à la Russe, or noisettes d’agneau à la Réjane. Try it.” 

 I was half thinking I would, and wondering how I could express my sense of obligation to my new acquaintance, when a sudden crash and scream in the road brought us both to our feet. The hat-sketcher, having finished with his task and gone, had stepped thoughtlessly off the kerb right under the shafts of a passing cab. 

 For a tranquil body, my companion showed the most curious excitement over the accident. Uttering broken exclamations of reproof and concern, he hurried down, as fast as his bulk would permit him, to the scene of the mishap, about which a crowd was already swarming. I could see little of what followed; but, the press after a time dispersing, I made shift to inquire of an onlooker as to the nature of the victim’s hurt, and was told that the man had been taken off to the St. Antoine Hospital in the very cab which had run him down, my friend of the Panama hat accompanying him. And so there for the moment our acquaintance ended. 

 But we met again at the Montesquieu—whither I had actually transferred my quarters in the interval—a day or two later. He 

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