The Marquis never for a moment suspected it to be all forced, but rubbed his hands together so briskly and chuckled so heartily, that a violent fit of coughing supervened, and he was compelled to turn aside to hold in his false teeth.
"Your lordship has caught a little cold," said the Member for Rottenborough. "But it is nothing—a mere nothing: I often have a cough like that. I've known many young men—much younger than your lordship—have worse coughs."
"Oh! I know that it's nothing," cried the Marquis, still stammering with a diabolical irritation in the throat.
"By the bye," said Greenwood, imagining that he had now so effectually worked himself into the old nobleman's good graces that he might safely explain the business that had brought him thither; "you are not in any hurry for the ten thousand I borrowed of you at the beginning of the year?"
"Not in the least, my dear fellow," returned the Marquis. "But, while I think of it, what has become of the fair Georgian—the blue-eyed Malkhatoun?"
"I handed her over to Dapper some time ago," answered Greenwood. "We were, however, speaking of those ten thousand pounds——"
"A trifle—a mere trifle. Say no more about it," cried the nobleman.
"I expected as much from your lordship's generous friendship," said Greenwood, obsequiously. "In fact, I came to tax you for a further loan—just for a few days——"
"Impossible at present, my dear fellow!" interrupted the Marquis, rather peremptorily; for he had entertained doubts of his friend's prosperity for some time past; and this application only tended to confirm his suspicions. "I am really so pressed at this moment——"
The dialogue was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a servant, who said, "My lord, the Prince of Montoni requests an interview with your lordship."