He was certainly a changed being. He stood and looked at
us as though we were ghosts. Mr. Bundercombe waved his hand in friendly
fashion. It was not until then that Louis, with marked unwillingness, came
forward to greet us.
"Come to see your new quarters, Louis!" Mr. Bundercombe said cheerfully.
"Find us a table and serve us some of your special coffee. We will dine
here another evening."
Louis showed us to a table and handed us over to the care of an
unwholesome-looking German waiter, with only a very brief interchange of
courtesies. And then, with a word of excuse, he darted away. Mr.
Bundercombe looked after him wonderingly.
The coffee was brought by the waiter and served without Louis'
reappearance. The effect of his absence on Mr. Bundercombe, however, was
only to make him more determined than ever to get at the bottom of
whatever mystery there might be.
"Just tell Louis, the _maitre d'hotel_, I wish to speak to him," he
instructed the waiter.
The man departed. Ten minutes passed, but there was no sign of Louis. Mr.
Bundercombe sent another and more imperative message. This time Louis
obeyed it. As he crossed the room a little hesitatingly toward us, it was
almost sad to notice the alteration in his appearance.
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