Lemuel stared at him and replied:—
“Are you addressing me, sir?”
“Certainly I am.”
“You are mistaken in the person, sir. I do not know you. My name is not Lemuel, it is Smith. Smith, of Hartford, Connecticut. May I ask your name, and why you address me, a perfect stranger? Do I resemble any friend of yours? Am I like any grandson you have? If so, could you, for the sake of the resemblance, lend me a hundred francs?”
“Lemuel, this is trifling. What are you doing here?”
It suddenly occurred to Lemuel that he had the Professor in as close a corner as the Professor had him, and he replied:—
“Professor, what are you doing here?”
“Lemuel, I was fearful that you would break your promise to me, and I came here to be sure that you were not here.”
“Professor, I was fearful that you might accidentally stray hither after the meeting of the Social Science sharps was over, and I came here to see that no harm came to you.”
“Lemuel, we are, I perceive, both innocent of any harmful intention, but as our action might be misconstrued at home, it would be as well if no mention is made of this unfortunate matter.”