"It's milk for babes, youngster," answered Bagshot quickly, and changed the conversation.
Gaston saw something strange in the little incident; but he presently forgot it for many a day, and then remembered it for many a day, when the wheel had spun through a wild arc.
When they rose from the table, Meyerbeer went to Bagshot, and said:
"Say, who's Zoug-Zoug, anyway?" Bagshot coolly replied:
"I'm acting for another paper. What price?"
"Fifty dollars," in a low voice, eagerly. Bagshot meditated.
"H'm, fifty dollars! Two hundred and fifty francs, or thereabouts.
Beggarly!"
"A hundred, then."
Bagshot got to his feet, lighting a cigarette.
"Want to have a pretty story against a woman, and to smutch a man, do you? Well, I'm hard up; I don't mind gossip among ourselves; but sell the stuff to you—I'll see you damned first!"