"Hereditary taint, you mean! You're better off without him; why, he'd infect the whole house, Pelletan."
Pelletan gazed at him aghast.
"Monsieur is choking!" he said.
"I'm in deadly earnest, but I don't expect you to understand, for you've got an hereditary taint, too, Pelletan, which shows itself principally in your spine."
Pelletan turned pale.
"I assure you, monsieur," he stammered, "I am fery—"
"No matter," broke in Rushford. "All European inn-keepers have it, and it has never been known to result fatally, so don't worry. But why did you think I'd take hold of this thing?"
"I haf heard so much," explained Pelletan, "of t'e enterprise of t'e
Americans, t'at I t'ought perhaps you might—"
"Win back Zeit-Zeit? Not on your life! If he comes, I go! But I tell you what I'll do, Pelletan. I'll make you a proposition."
"Proceed, monsieur," and the other's face began to beam anticipatively.