The Count of Monte Cristo

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politeness, that most insurmountable barrier which separates the
well-bred from the vulgar man.

He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the magistrate would
tremble at the sight of him; on the contrary, he felt a cold shudder all
over him when he saw Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk,
and his head leaning on his hand. He stopped at the door; Villefort
gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing him; then,
after a brief interval, during which the honest shipowner turned his hat
in his hands,--

"M. Morrel, I believe?" said Villefort.

"Yes, sir."

"Come nearer," said the magistrate, with a patronizing wave of the hand,
"and tell me to what circumstance I owe the honor of this visit."