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Sophie
glanced
at
Langdon
,
uncertain
whether
she
’
d
stepped
back
in
time
or
into
a
nuthouse
.
The
butler
who
had
answered
the
door
now
entered
carrying
a
tea
service
,
which
he
arranged
on
a
table
in
front
of
the
fireplace
.
«
This
is
Rémy
Legaludec
,
»
Teabing
said
,
»
my
manservant
.
»
The
slender
butler
gave
a
stiff
nod
and
disappeared
yet
again
.
«
Rémy
is
Lyonais
,
»
Teabing
whispered
,
as
if
it
were
an
unfortunate
disease
.
«
But
he
does
sauces
quite
nicely
.
»
Langdon
looked
amused
.
«
I
would
have
thought
you
’
d
import
an
English
staff
?
»
«
Good
heavens
,
no
!
I
would
not
wish
a
British
chef
on
anyone
except
the
French
tax
collectors
.
»
He
glanced
over
at
Sophie
.
«
Pardonnez
-
moi
,
Mademoiselle
Neveu
.
Please
be
assured
that
my
distaste
for
the
French
extends
only
to
politics
and
the
soccer
pitch
.
Your
government
steals
my
money
,
and
your
football
squad
recently
humiliated
us
.
»
Sophie
offered
an
easy
smile
.
Teabing
eyed
her
a
moment
and
then
looked
at
Langdon
.
«
Something
has
happened
.
You
both
look
shaken
.
»
