He replaced the pipe in its case with a gesture of renunciation.
“You make me tired, Schleifmann!” grumbled Cyprien. “You upset me considerably.... What! I take the trouble to buy you a pipe, to choose it as if for myself! And this is all I get for it: words of ill-omen!... Well, yes; there.... I have gambled.... I have even won.... I won seven hundred francs.... But it is fi-ni-shed, all finished! To-day I stopped everything.... Are you satisfied, you silly?”
“Finished!” the Galician sneered. “I do not believe a word of it, my dear fellow.... Begun, yes.... But finished, after such a profit! You take me for a fool, Raindal!”
Cyprien made a haughty grimace.
“As you like! Do believe me! I cannot compel you to believe me.... Very well, then.... I am still gambling.... I gamble until I am all out of breath.... Quite so.... And you are leaving me my pipe?... You could do anything pleasanter!”
Unwittingly, Schleifmann glanced with regret at the plump siren which, lying on her side, seemed as if asleep.
“There! I do want to upset you, my dear Cyprien!... Nevertheless, I am shamed to take your pipe.... I ought not to.... It is right.”
“Do be so fussy,” said Raindal, with an air of affection. “Take it back quickly ... since as I tell you not gambling any more!”
“The Lord be praised, if you are telling the truth!” Schleifmann murmured, as he lit his pipe.
The conversation once more became friendly. From time to time, Schleifmann exhaled between two puffs: “Delicious.... Colossal!” Uncle Cyprien thought that his deception had succeeded and ventured in a careless tone: