" "Mrs. Grant, the marshal begs me to
say to you that he regrets not being able to talk with you, but
unfortunately he does not understand English." Then there was a pause
and Mrs. Grant began again: "What a beautiful palace, Mr. President. It
must be delightful with that charming garden." Again the marshal to me:
"Mais je vous en prie Madame, dites a Madame Grant que je ne puis pas
causer avec elle. Il ne faut pas qu'elle me parle, je ne comprends pas."
"Mrs. Grant, the marshal is distressed that he cannot talk to you, but
he _really_ does not understand any English." It was very trying for
Mrs. Grant. Happily her other neighbour knew a little English and she
could talk to him, but all through dinner, at intervals, she began again
at the marshal.
After a few moments I turned my attention to my ambassador. I had been
looking at him furtively while I was interpreting for the marshal and
Mrs. Grant. I saw that he _took_ everything that was offered to
him--dishes, wines, sauces--but he never attacked anything without
waiting to see what his neighbours did, when and how they used their
knives and forks,--then did exactly as they did,--never made a mistake.
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