"M'sieu'----"
"Have a seat, sir," urged the apothecary.
His visitor again declined, with his uniform melancholy grace. He drew close to Frowenfeld.
"Ah wand you mague me one ouangan," he said.
Joseph shook his head. He remembered Doctor Keene's expressed suspicion concerning the assault of the night before.
"I do not understand you, sir; what is that?"
"You know."
The landlord offered a heavy, persuading smile.
"An unguent? Is that what you mean--an ointment?"
"M'sieu'," said the applicant, with a not-to-be-deceived expression, "vous êtes astrologue--magicien--"