Uncle Cyprien consulted his watch.
“Noon!... He must be at the Bourse.”
“Very good! I am going to see him.... I shall attempt to get him to have you carried over.... He is not a bad fellow.... At the time of my affair of the reforms, you remember, Cyprien, do you, he was one of those who received me with the least roughness. Again, he left me his son as a pupil, his overdressed gummy son.... Well, I have some hopes.... What do you say?”
“All right! If I am carried over!” Cyprien said skeptically.
“Let me go down, then.... A cab, quick!... Huf! Huf!”
Downstairs, Cyprien asked the concierge to take his “beast” back to the rue ssas, and the two old friends climbed into an open carriage.
They were silent for a few minutes; then M. Raindal said with sarcasm.
“The one time in my life that I have had anything to do with the Jews, you must admit, my dear Schleifmann, has brought me no luck!”
“And M. de Meuze?” the Galician replied aggressively. “M. de Meuze who led you to this, is he a Jew?”
“No, tha true enough,” Cyprien admitted. “He is not a Jew.... But he is Judaized, which comes to the same thing.”