“You think so?” said Rémy, well pleased.
“But I also am in your debt; indeed, it was I who ought to have paid you, and not the lady. Come, give me your confidence. What do you do in Paris?”
“What do I do? I do nothing; but I would if I had a connection.”
“Well, that is just right; I will give you a patient. Will you have me? I am famous practise; for there is scarcely a day when I do not deface God’s noblest work for others, or they for me. Will you undertake the care of all the holes I make in the skin of others or others in mine?”
“Ah, M. le Comte! this honor.”
“No; you are just the man I want. You shall come and live with me; you shall have your own rooms, and your own servants; accept, or you will really annoy me.”
“M. le Comte, I am so overjoyed, I cannot express it. I will work—I will make a connection——”
“But, no, I tell you, I keep you for myself and my friends. Now, do you remember anything more?”
“Nothing.”
“Ah, well! help me to find out, if it be possible.”