“It is right,” said the Armenian, handing a receipt. “It is right; and I am quite satisfied.”
“You are satisfied—you have taken money. Bueno, I have nothing to say against your being satisfied.”
“Come, Rabbi,” said the Armenian, “do not despond; it may be your turn next to take money; in the meantime, can’t you be persuaded to taste my Cyprus?”
“He—he—he! señor, you know I do not love wine. I love Noah when he is himself; but, as Janus, I love him not. But you are merry; bueno, you have a right to be so.”
“Excuse me,” said I; “but does Noah ever appear as Janus?”
“He—he—he!” said the Rabbi, “he only appeared as Janus once—una vez quando estuvo borracho; which means—”
“I understand,” said I; “when he was—” and I drew the side of my right hand sharply across my left wrist.
“Are you one of our people?” said the Rabbi.
“No,” said I, “I am one of the Goyim; but I am only half enlightened. Why should Noah be Janus, when he was in that state?”
“He—he—he! you must know that in Lasan akhades wine is janin.”