have passed between them. At any rate, without any protest or speech
of any sort from Louis the _commissionnaire_ saluted and stood
back.

"But your friend, monsieur?" he asked.

"It will be arranged," Louis answered, in a low tone. "We shall speak
to Monsieur Carvin."

We were in a dark sort of _entresol_, and at that moment a
further door was opened, and one caught the gleam of lights and the
babel of voices. A man came out of the room and walked rapidly toward
us. He was of middle height, and dressed in ordinary morning clothes,
wearing a black tie with a diamond pin. His lips were thick. He had a
slight tawny moustache, and a cast in one eye. He held out both his
hands to Louis.

"Dear Louis," he exclaimed, "it is good to see you!"

Louis drew him to one side, and they talked for a few moments in a
rapid undertone. More than once the manager of the restaurant, for
such I imagined him to be, glanced towards me, and I was fairly
certain that I formed the subject of their conversation. When it was
finished Louis beckoned, and we all three turned towards the door
together, Louis in the centre.

"This," he said to me, "is Monsieur Carvin, the manager of the Cafe
des Deux Epingles. He has been explaining to me how difficult it is to
find even a corner in his restaurant, but there will be a small table
for us."