All this came back to Lafcadio; as his nature was to throw himself into the spirit of the game, whatever it might be, he smiled. Protos went on:
“All the same, it was lucky I happened to turn up the other day, eh?... Not altogether by accident, maybe. I like keeping an eye on young novices: they’ve got ideas; they’re enterprising; they’re smart. But they’re too much inclined to think they can do without advice. Your handiwork the other night, my dear fellow, was sadly in need of touching up.... To wear a tile of that kind on one’s head when one’s out on the job! Was there ever such a notion? With the hatter’s address in the lining too! Why! you’d have been collared before the week was out. But when it’s a case of old friends I’ve a feeling heart—and, what’s more, I’ll prove it. Do you know, I used to be very fond of you, Cadio. I always thought something might be made of you. With a handsome face like yours, we could have got round all the women, and, for the matter of that, God forgive me! bled one or two of the men into the bargain. You can’t think how glad I was to have news of you at last and to hear you were coming to Italy. Upon my soul, I was longing to know what had become of you since the days we used to go and see that little wench of ours together. You’re not bad-looking even now. Oh! she knew a thing or two, did Carola!”
Lafcadio’s irritation was becoming more and more manifest—and likewise his endeavours to hide it; all this amused Protos prodigiously, though he pretended to notice nothing. He had taken a little round of leather out of his waistcoat pocket and was now examining it.
“Neatly cut out, eh?”
Lafcadio could have strangled him; he clenched his fists till his nails dug into his flesh. The other went on with his gibing:
“Damned good of me! Well worth the six thousand francs which—by the way, will you tell me why you didn’t pocket?”
Lafcadio made a movement of disgust:
“Do you take me for a thief?”
“Look here, my dear boy,” went on Protos quietly, “I’m not very fond of amateurs and I’d better tell you so at once quite frankly. And you know, it’s not a bit of use taking up the high and mighty line with me or playing the simpleton. You show promise—granted!—remarkable promise, but....”
“Stop your witticisms,” interrupted Lafcadio, whose anger was now uncontrollable. “What are you driving at? I committed an act of folly the other day—do you think I need to be told so? Yes! you have a weapon against me. I won’t ask whether it would be prudent of you, for your own sake, to use it. You want me to buy back that piece of leather? Very well, then, say so! Stop laughing and looking at me like that. You want money? How much?”