"These reporters bothering your life out, I see," and Grady glanced
about the group, scowling as his eyes met Godfrey's. "Now you boys
might as well fade away. You won't get anything out of either of us
to-night--eh, Moosseer Piggott?"

"I have but just told them that my first report must be made to you,
sir," assented Pigot.

"Then let's go somewhere and have a drink," suggested Grady.

"I was hoping," said M. Pigot, gently, "that we might go ashore at
once. I have my papers ready for you...."

"All right," agreed Grady. "And after I've looked over your papers,
I'll show you Broadway, and I'll bet you agree with me that it beats
anything in gay Paree. Our boat's waiting, and we can start right
away. This your bag? Yes? Bring it along, Simmonds," and Grady
started for the stair.

But the attentive steward got ahead of Simmonds.

M. Pigot turned to us with a little smile.

"Till to-morrow, gentlemen," he said. "I shall be at the Hotel Astor,
and shall be glad to see you--shall we say at eleven o'clock? I am
truly sorry that I can tell you nothing to-night."

He shook hands with the purser, waved his hand to us, and joined
Grady, who was watching these amenities with evident impatience.
Together they disappeared down the stair.