Cyprien thanked him profusely and gave his solemn promise.
Once in the street, he walked briskly towards the Champs Elysées. The sky had freshened and showed a radiant spring gayety. The faces of the women he met seemed more beautiful and Uncle Cyprien bestowed gallant looks at them.
He sat in a chair facing the carriages which passed in the splendid avenue. A hopeful joy dilated his whole being. How sweet it would be if he could open his soul about this with someone! What a pity that Schleifmann proved so intractable! Once more M. Raindal was carried away by the bitterest reflections against him.
And the next day he presented his card at the Bank of Galicia and was received at once.
M. Pums at once assured him of his sympathy. The friendship of M. de Meuze and the fact that he was M. Rainda brother was a double recommendation and one too great for M. Pums not to feel very much disposed to help his visitor.
“By the way,” exclaimed Cyprien, “I should be indebted to you if you would say nothing of this to my brother.... He might become alarmed and imagine that I have fallen a prey to the passion of gambling and such nonsense.... I prefer....”
“There is no need to insist,” M. Pums declared. “In business discretion is the rule.... Moreover, it is quite enough that you should ask me....”
He explained to Cyprien the mechanism of buying and selling stock. He would put his visitor in touch with a broker, M. Talloire, the ban own agent, that of the marquis and of a quantity of other personages and respectable houses. M. Talloire would open an account for M. Raindal, who would then have nothing else to do but give his orders.
“Hm! Hm!” Cyprien remarked, blinking. “Shall I have to go to this Talloire myself?... It is very unpleasant.”
M. Pums smiled cordially.