"I wish you a pleasant morning, Mr. Greifmann. You have sent for me: what do you want?"
The banker slowly raised his eyes from the latest exchange list to the rough features of the builder, and remembering that the man had risen up from the mortarboard to his present position, and had gained wealth and influence through personal energy, he returned the short greeting with a friendly inclination of the head.
"Will you have the goodness to be seated, Mr. Sand?"
The man of the black beard took a seat, and, having noticed the handsome collection of banknotes, his coarse face settled itself into a not very attractive grin.
"I want to impart to you my intention of erecting a villa on the Sauerberg, near the middle of our estate at Wilheim," continued the millionaire.
"Ah, that is a capital idea!" And the man of the beard became very deeply interested. "The site is charming, no view equal to it; healthy location, vineyards round about, your own vineyards moreover. I could put you up a gem there."
"That is what I think, Mr. Sand! My father, who has been abroad for the last three months, is quite satisfied with the plan; in fact, he is the original projector of it."
"I know, I know! your father has a taste for what is grand. We shall try and give him satisfaction, which, by the bye, is not so very easy. But you have the money, and fine fortunes can command fine houses."
"What I want principally is to get you to draw a plan, consulting your own taste and experience in doing so. You will show it to me when ready, and I will tell you whether I like it or not."
"Very well, Mr. Greifmann, very well! But I must know beforehand what amount of money you are willing to spend upon the house; for all depends upon the cost."