Chapter 16

THE QUARREL

In the main salon I perceived sitting at a small table a short,
squat gentleman of the professional type. He had a red moustache,
and was engaged in eating something or another, while by his side
sat a tall, clean-shaven individual with whom he was carrying on
a conversation in French. Somehow the aspect of these two persons
displeased me; yet I decided, for all that, to light my cigarette
at the candelabrum which was standing before them. Looking from
side to side, to avoid meeting their gaze, I approached the
table, and applied my cigarette to the flame. When it was fairly
alight, I involuntarily threw a glance at the gentleman who was
eating, and found his grey eyes fixed upon me with an expression
of intense displeasure. Just as I was turning away his red
moustache moved a little, and he said in French:

"I do not like people to smoke when I am dining, my good sir."

I murmured something inaudible.

"No, I do not like it at all," he went on sternly, and with a
glance at his clean-shaven companion, as though inviting him to
admire the way in which he was about to deal with me. "I do not
like it, my good sir, nor do I like people who have the impudence
to puff their smoke up one's very nose."

By this time I had gathered that it was myself he was scolding,
and at first felt as though I had been altogether in the wrong,

"I did not mean to inconvenience you," I said.

"Well, if you did not suppose you were being impertinent, at
least I did! You are a cad, young sir!" he shouted in reply.

"But what right have you to shout at me like that?" I exclaimed,
feeling that it was now HE that was insulting ME, and growing
angry accordingly.

"This much right," he replied, "that I never allow myself to be
overlooked by any one, and that I always teach young fellows like
yourself their manners. What is your name, young sir, and where
do you live?"

At this I felt so hurt that my teeth chattered, and I felt as
though I were choking. Yet all the while I was conscious of being
in the wrong, and so, instead of offering any further rudeness to
the offended one, humbly told him my name and address.

"And MY name, young sir," he returned, "is Kolpikoff, and I will
trouble you to be more polite to me in future.--However, You will
hear from me again" ("vous aurez de mes nouvelles"--the
conversation had been carried on wholly in French), was his
concluding remark.

To this I replied, "I shall be delighted," with an infusion of as
much hauteur as I could muster into my tone. Then, turning on my
heel, I returned with my