It was with something akin to a feeling
of relief that he heard his name spoken and turned to find the keen,
restless eyes of Monsieur de Talleyrand, beside whom he was seated,
fixed upon him.
"Monsieur is not interested in the conversation?" he asked, and, though
there was a mocking smile on the thin lips, there was also a kindly look
in the brilliant eyes.
Calvert blushed hotly at being so easily found out by this worldly
looking prelate. Monsieur de Talleyrand shrugged his shoulders. "'Tis a
good sign, I think," and he looked still more kindly at Calvert. "You
have been brought up amid simpler, purer surroundings, Mr. Calvert," he
said, suddenly leaning over toward the young man and speaking in tones
so low as to be drowned in the noisy conversation. "I envy you your good
fortune," he went on. "I envy you your inability to fit yourself into
any niche, to adjust yourself to any surroundings, as your friend
Monsieur Morris, for example, seems to have the faculty of doing. See,
he is even making verses to Madame la Duchesse!"
Calvert looked over at Mr. Morris and saw him tear from his table-book a
leaf upon which he had been writing and, with a bow, offer it to the
Duchess.
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