‘And the dopacco?’ said Darco lazily—’ eh?’
‘The true believer smokes it in Paradise,’ said Paul; and Darco translated the saying to the host, who bowed and smiled.
‘How did you know that I was un homme littéraire?’ asked Paul, stumbling at the unaccustomed words.
‘I haf seen your name to half a tozen short stories,’ said Darco. ‘It was no mere gomparison of names to me. I know your sdyle. It has changed. It has changed for the petter, but I know id. You gannot deceive me apout a sdyle. I am Cheorge Dargo. I know my way anywhere.’ They smoked and sipped their coffee in a splendid contentment ‘Vat prings you to Baris?’ Darco asked lazily.
‘I sold a book yesterday,’ said Paul—‘my first I had worked hard; I thought I deserved a little holiday—I have got to learn my world. And I was beastly hungry the day before yesterday.’
‘I have been there,’ returned Darco. ‘There was an English Duke—he is dead now—I did a liddle service in Puda Besth. He vanted to bay me. I said “I am Cheorge Dargo. I do not take money excebt in the way of business.” Ven I was ruint in the United States I game back to England, and I hat not one benny. I galled on the Duke. He was at bregfasd. He got ub, ant he took me py the shoulders begause he was glad to see me, and he said, “My tear Dargo, you are wet”; and I said: “You would be wet if you had slept in the rain in St Chames’s Bank.”’
‘You’ve had hard times, old Darco?’
‘I have had a million dollars. I haf had nothings. Once I sdole a loaf. I gave the paker ten dollars the week after and dold him vat I had done.’ He puffed idly and sipped his Gloria. ‘I am Cheorge Dargo,’ he murmured nosily. ‘There is nothings I haf not been. There is nothings I have not seen.
There is nothings worth doing that I have not done.’ He smoked and sipped again. ‘But I haf not got a liderary sdyle. You haf a liderary sdyle. Come again with me to write blays. We will both great fortunes make.’
‘Shake hands on that,’ said Paul vehemently; and Darco shook hands with phlegm.