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Excerpt from The Spread Eagle, and Other Stories
One Fourth of July they were in Paris (you go, to Paris for tea-gowns to wear grouse-shooting in Scot land), and when his valet, scraping and bowing, ln formed Fitzhugh Williams, aged nine, that it was time to get up, and tub, and go forth in a white sailor suit, and be of the world worldly, Fitzhugh declined: A greater personage was summoned - Aloys, the maid of madame, a ravishing creature - to whom you and I, good Americans though we are, could have refused nothing. But Fitzhugh would not come out of his feather-bed. And when madame herself came, looking like a princess even at that early hour, he only pulled the bedclothes a little higher with an air of finality.
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