He was dressed like a petty bourgeois, but very neatly, in a suit of bluish-gray, with woollen stockings; the coat long and tightly buttoned, a wide collar turned down and cut square across the chest, open sleeves in the Flemish style, and a broad-brimmed felt hat without feathers. Monsieur de Bois-Doré, having asked politely as to his health and ordered a servant to give him a glass of Cyprus, which he declined with a wave of his hand, said no more to him, but bestowed his attention on his guest exclusively. Such was the etiquette of that time, a man of quality being prohibited from showing much consideration for an inferior, under pain of seeming to insult his equals. But D'Alvimar noticed that their eyes met frequently and that, after every remark made by the marquis, they exchanged a smile of intelligence, as if he desired to share all his thoughts with the new-comer, perhaps to obtain his approbation, perhaps to divert his mind from some secret trouble. Surely, in all this there was no cause for alarm on D'Alvimar's part. But it may be that he was not on very good terms with his conscience; for that handsome and honest face, far from being attractive to him, caused him a great mental perturbation and sudden distrust. The marquis, however, did not say a word or ask a question referring to the reasons of the Spaniard's flight to Berry. He talked entirely of himself, and therein gave proof of great tact, for D'Alvimar had as yet shown no inclination to be confidential, and his host found a way to keep up the conversation without questioning him upon any subject whatsoever.