“Yes, this is the place to make money. You say you are thinking of starting in some American city; well, let me tell you, there are very few American cities so full of rich Americans as Paris.”
“Well,” said Adams, “the idea is not a bad one, but just for the present I am fixed. I am going on a big-game shooting expedition to the Congo.”
“As doctor?”
“Yes, and the salary is not bad—two thousand francs a month and everything found, to say nothing of the fun.”
“And the malaria?”
“Oh, one has to run risks.”
“Whom are you going with?”
“A man called Berselius.”
“Not Captain Berselius?” asked Stenhouse, stopping dead.
“Yes, Captain Berselius, of No. 14 Avenue Malakoff. I have just returned from having déjeuner with him.”