The Prince awoke at this and leaned forward blinking.
‘Pray continue. It is most interesting.’
‘I am not used to ’ave my beesness bropositions receift in soch a way. I am Baron Blumenstrauss,’ he said, turning to Mr. Cato, with gurgling guttural r’s.
‘Yes?... I am Mr. Cato—Mr. Wyndham Cato ... I ... I live here, you know.’
‘Ah—sit down, Mister Cato. I ’ave read your speeches. You are cleffer man; you ’ave ideas; wrong ideas, bot cleffer. What can I do wid a shendlemann dat go to sleep when I make him beesness bropositions? I offer to make him very rich man, he say “rippin’”; I say four hunderd tousand pount a year, he shut his eye; I say fife hunderd tousand pount, he go to sleep.’
‘Five, hundred ... thousand ... pounds!’ ejaculated Mr. Cato faintly, overwhelmed.
‘Effery year.’
‘Why?’
The Baron winked ponderously, with an effort, and smiled with exquisite penetration of Mr. Cato’s labyrinthine slyness.
‘Nod for nussing!’