“Yes; that beautiful lady, the singer, you saw in Homburg.”
“What! the lady that said he should have his money?”
“The same.”
“Why, he must be mad.”
“No. A scoundrel. That is all.”
“Then she won't give him his money after that.”
“Not if I can help it. But if she likes to pay you your commission, I shall not object to that.”
“You are a good fellow.”
“What is more, I shall see her to-morrow, and I will put the question to her for you.”
Poikilus was profuse in his thanks, and said he began to think it was his only chance. Then he had a misgiving. “I have no claim on the lady,” said he; “and I am afraid I have been a bad friend to her. I did not mean it, though, and the whole affair is dark to me.”