“The king will try his fortune elsewhere. But we have supped well, you are disposed to enjoy yourself; you invite me to confide in you. Open your ears, then.”
“They are open.” And Planchet, with a laugh more frank than cunning, opened a bottle of white wine.
“Leave me my reason, at least.”
“Oh, as to you losing your head—you, monsieur!”
“Now my head is my own, and I mean to take better care of it than ever. In the first place we shall talk business. How fares our money-box?”
“Wonderfully well, monsieur. The twenty thousand livres I had of you are still employed in my trade, in which they bring me nine per cent. I give you seven, so I gain two by you.”
“And you are still satisfied?”
“Delighted. Have you brought me any more?”
“Better than that. But do you want any?”
“Oh! not at all. Every one is willing to trust me now. I am extending my business.”