"Mr. Hans Shund."
"Who--what? Hans Shund? The thief, the usurer, the convict, the debauchee? Who has been making a fool of you?"
"Pardon me, sir! I never suffer people to make a fool of me!" rejoined the banker with much dignity.
"Yes, yes--somebody has dished up a canard for you. What, that good-for-nothing scoundrel to be elected mayor! Never in his life! Hans Shund mayor--really that is good now--ha, ha!"
"Mr. Sand, you lead me to suspect that you belong to the party of Ultramontanes."
"Who--I an Ultramontane? That is ridiculous! Sir, I am at the head of the men of progress--I am the most liberal of the liberals--that, sir, is placarded on every wall."
"How come you, then, to call Mr. Sand a good-for-nothing scoundrel?"
"Simply for this reason, because, he is a usurer and a dissipated wretch."
"Then I am in the right, after all! Mr. Sand belongs to the ranks of the pious," jeered the banker.
"Mr. Greifmann, you are insulting!"