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* * * * *
"What is that about the caged bird?" said Edwards.
"Ah, the caged bird?" said Calabressa. "The caged bird?--do you see,
that is a metaphor. It is nothing; one makes one's little joke. But I
was saying, my dear friend, that you English do not promise, and then
forget. No; he says, 'I will befriend this poor devil of a Kirski;' and
here he comes inquiring after him. Now I must answer the letter; you
will accompany me, Monsieur Edouarts? Ten minutes in my little room, and
it is done."
So the two walked away together. This Edwards who now accompanied
Calabressa was a man of about thirty, who looked younger; tall, fair,
with a slight stoop, a large forehead, and blue eyes that stared
near-sightedly through spectacles. The ordinary expression of his face
was grave even to melancholy, but his occasional smile was humorous, and
when he laughed the laugh was soft and light like that of a child. His
knowledge of modern languages was considered to be almost unrivalled,
though he had travelled but little.


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