_Leah._ "How unkind of you, Barty! When have I had time to trouble about French? Besides, you always laugh at my French accent and mimic it--and _that's_ not encouraging!" _Barty._ "My dear, I _adore_ your French accent; it's so unaffected! I only wish I heard it a little oftener." _Leah._ "You shall hear it this afternoon. At what o'clock is he coming, your Monsieur Paroly?" _Barty._ "At four-thirty." _Leah._ "Oh, Barty, _don't_ give yourself away--don't talk to him about your writings, or about yourself, or about your family. He'll vulgarize you all over France. Surely you've not forgotten that nice 'gentleman' from America who came to see you, and who told you that _he_ was no interviewer, not _he_! but came merely as a friend and admirer--a distant but constant worshipper for many years! and how you talked to him like a long-lost brother, in consequence! 'There's nobody in the world like the best Americans,' you said. You adored them _all_, and wanted to be an American yourself--till a month after, when he published every word you said, and more, and what sort of cravat you had on, and how silent and cold and uncommunicative your good, motherly English wife was--you, the brilliant and talkative Barty Josselin, who should have mated with a countrywoman of his own! and how your bosom friend was a huge, overgrown everyday Briton with a broken nose! _I_ saw what he was at, from the low cunning in his face as he listened; and felt that every single unguarded word you dropped was a dollar in his pocket! How we've all had to live down that dreadfully facetious and grotesque and familiar article he printed about us all in those twenty American newspapers that have got the largest circulation in the world! and how you stamped and raved, Barty, and swore that never another American 'gentleman' should enter your house! What names you called him: 'cad!' 'sweep!' 'low-bred, little Yankee penny-a-liner!' Don't you remember? Why, he described you as a quite nice-looking man somewhat over the middle height!" "Oh yes; damn him, _I_ remember!" said Barty, who was three or four inches over six feet, and quite openly vain of his good looks.