"I am not in the least surprised at that," replied Duval, "seeing that my son had known her some months, and has already permitted her to see that cupid has severely wounded him with his shaft. A chance, mon ami, to have a husband like my son can only come to her once in a lifetime, n'est-ce pas?"
The eyeglass came up again as slowly and cautiously as before. "Listen, mon ami," said Payot, "Monsieur Ribout, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, is, I understand, about to raise a loan for the new Morocco-Tunisian Railway. Do you think you can get me the concession for flotation?"
"My dear Payot, you anticipate me. I have it in my portfolio?"
"What! Do you mean to say that you actually have it here, in your portfolio?" cried Payot in a shrill tremor of delight.
"C'est vrai, mon ami. Just wait a moment and I will show it you. Here it is, now we can arrange these things beautifully."
Payot rubbed his hands together in a fever of delight, while his eyes sparkled with impatient greed, as he stretched out his hand to clasp the precious document.
"Stop, stop, mon vieux, there are a few, just a few little preliminaries to arrange before I give it up to you. In the first place I must ask you to sign this little paper, undertaking to pay me twenty-five per cent. of the net profits which you make over the concession. A mere form, of course, but between friends it is always as well to attend to these little details."
The eyeglass went up again with more deliberation than ever, and Payot calmly surveyed as much of him as was visible above the table. "What is his little game now?" he muttered to himself.
"And now," continued Duval, "you have only to sign this, and give me your solemn promise that Renée shall marry my son, and the concession is yours."