'Unfortunate combination,' muttered the Count, below his breath, in English.
'But, my good friend Hirsch, how do you propose to give money to this distressed lady, whose name you do not even know?'
'There is only one from whom she will take it, and from him I come. He will give it to her. You will have no credit for your generosity, citizen, for she will not know from whom it comes.'
'I don't think credit is what we work for, nous autres,' said the Count, with a slightly injured air.
'I must tell you the truth,' answered the Austrian, with a shrug of his shoulders and an outward gesture of the palms of his hands.
'Doubtless; but may I not know the name of the benefactor from whose assistance this lady's pride does not shrink?'
'Assuredly; he told me that if I mentioned his name to you, it would be enough to guarantee your attention.'
A very slight change passed over the Count's face, and yet there seemed nothing in that speech to stir up uneasiness. The expression was so transient that it escaped the sharp eyes that watched him from under Hirsch's shaggy eyebrows.
'Distress itself is the best guarantee for my attention.'
He rose and unlocked a despatch box and took out a cheque-book.