"Who, sir,—the same?"
"The conductor."
"Oh, sir!" It was a dreadful thing to feel I had, as it were, got hold of him and lost him again; but Santonio's manner was such that I did not think he could mean the same person.
"Are you sure it is the same, Mr. Santonio?" I reiterated again, and yet again, while my companion, whose laugh had passed into a yawn, was gazing at the smoke.
"Sure? Of course I am sure. I know every conductor in Europe."
"I daresay you do, sir; but this is not a common conductor."
"No conductors are common, my friend. He is very clever, a genius too, and will do a great deal; but he is too young at present to be talked of without caution."
"Why, sir?"
"Because we may spoil him."
I was indignant, I was sick, but so impotent I could only say, "Sir, has he ever heard you play?"