Moistening the tip of his immaculate handkerchief, M.
And, indeed, Monsieur Pettipon considered himself an artist..
His big pink hands gently smoothed the crinkles from the linen pillow cases; the woolen blankets he arranged in neat, folded triangles and stood off to survey the effect as an artist might.
He set about his task of making up the berths in the stateroom with the air of a high priest performing a sacerdotal ritual.
Alphonse Marie Louis Camille Pettipon deftly and daintily rubbed an almost imperceptible speck of dust from the mirror in Stateroom C 341 of the liner Voltaire of the Paris-New York Steamship Company, and a little sigh of happiness fluttered his double chins.
Moistening the tip of his immaculate handkerchief, M
