“No such luck! But I’m getting a piano. Did I tell you? A Blüthner. It’s already on the way up from Mohamera.”
“A Blüthner! In Shustar! God in heaven! Why did you wait until I had gone?”
“Well, aren’t you still here?” The fact of Magin’s being still there, so unexpectedly, hung in his mind. “By the way, speaking of the Father of Swords, did you give him an order?”
“I gave him an order. Didn’t you pay it?”
“I thought twice about it. For unless you have struck oil, up in that country of yours where nobody goes, or gold——”
“Mr. Adolf Ganz,” remarked the Brazilian with some pointedness, “all I ask of you is to respect my signature and to keep closed that many-tongued mouth of yours. I sometimes fear that in you the banker is inclined to exchange confidences with the chemist—or even with the Son of Papa who cashes a cheque. Eh?”
Ganz cleared his throat.
“In that case,” he rejoined, “all you have to do is to ask him, when you meet him again at Bala Bala. And the English bank will no doubt be happy to accept the transfer of your account.”
Magin began to chuckle.
“We assert our dignity? Never mind, Adolf. As a matter of fact I have a high opinion of your discretion—so high that when I found the Imperial Bank of Elam I shall put you in charge of it! And you did me a real service by sending that motor-boat across my bow this morning. For in it I discovered just the chauffeur I have been looking for. I am getting tired of my galley, you know. You will see something when I come back.”