The Skeleton Key by Bernard Capes

The morning of the inquiry found M. le Baron in Paris, in his old rooms at the Montesquieu. He was in very good spirits, smiling and buoyant, and not at all conscience-smitten over his desertion of his servant in his hour of need. "It will be a not unwholesome lesson for the little _fanfaron_," he thought, "teaching him in the future to keep a guard on his tongue and temper." He foresaw, be it observed, that certain issue, and felt no anxiety about it. But his face fell somewhat to an added reflection: "I wonder if they have committed _him_ for trial by now. Poor girl!" and he shrugged his shoulders with a tiny sigh.

Having crossed by the night boat from Southampton, one might have looked for a certain staleness in the Baron's aspect. On the contrary, he was as chirpy as a sparrow, having slept well throughout a pretty bad crossing, and since had a refreshing tub and brush-up. He sat down -- though very late, with an excellent appetite -- to his _petit pain_ and rich coffee and _brioche_, and, having consumed them, took snuff at short intervals for half an hour, and then prepared to go out.