“In what respect, if you please?”
“I shall discover the secret of your wonderful interest in Israel Kafka’s welfare. I always like to follow the workings of a brain essentially different from my own, philanthropic, of course. How could it be anything else? Philanthropy deals with a class of ideas wholly unfamiliar to me. I shall learn much in your society.”
“And possibly I shall learn something from you,” the Wanderer answered. “There is certainly much to be learnt. I wonder whether your ideas upon all subjects are as simple as those you hold about oranges.”
“Absolutely. I make no secret of my principles. Everything I do is for my own advantage.”
“Then,” observed the Wanderer, “the advantage of Unorna’s life must be an enormous one to you, to judge by your satisfaction at her safety.”
Keyork stared at him a moment and then laughed, but less heartily and loudly than usual his companion fancied.
“Very good!” he exclaimed. “Excellent! I fell into the trap like a rat into a basin of water. You are indeed an interesting companion, my dear friend—so interesting that I hope we shall never part again.” There was a rather savage intonation in the last words.
They looked at each other intently, neither wincing nor lowering his gaze. The Wanderer saw that he had touched upon Keyork’s greatest and most important secret, and Keyork fancied that his companion knew more than he actually did. But nothing further was said, for Keyork was far too wise to enter into explanation, and the Wanderer knew well enough that if he was to learn anything it must be by observation and not by questioning. Keyork filled both glasses in silence and both men drank before speaking again.
“And now that we have refreshed ourselves,” he said, returning naturally to his former manner, “we will go and find Israel Kafka. It is as well that we should have given him a little time to himself. He may have returned to his senses without any trouble on our part. Shall we take the Individual?”
“As you please,” the Wanderer answered indifferently as he rose from his place.