“That is not what I asked you. Do you think him capable of dissimulation?”
“I think he’s an idiot.”
“You are an idiot yourself. He is shrewder than you, or than I either, perhaps. Ah! if that Italian’s story should be true!”
“Then you don’t mean that I shall know it? Very well; go on tormenting yourself. Make your own investigations, and let me go back to bed.”
“Johan, you are scolding me!” said the baron, with extraordinary mildness. “Be satisfied; you shall know all.”
“Oh yes; when you want something of me!”
“I shall want you immediately. This Italian must be made to produce his proofs, if he has any. Was nothing found on him?”
“Nothing. I searched him myself.”
“He told me that he did not have them with him. And what could he have had? Do you remember that Manasses?”
“I should think so! That old fellow who used to sell his merchandise here; and at high prices, too!”