I looked at him, and was satisfied. He found the same want in von Francius’ “superb” manipulation that I did—the glitter of a diamond, not the glow of a fire.
Karl had not the subtlety to retort, “Ay, but does it say what we like?” He subsided again, merely giving a meek assent to the proposition, and saying, suggestively:
“He’s not liked, though he is such a popular fellow.”
“The public is often a great fool.”
“Well, but you can’t expect it to kiss the hand that slaps it in the face, as von Francius does,” said Karl, driven to metaphor, probably for the first time in his life, and seeming astonished at having discovered a hitherto unknown mental property pertaining to himself.
Courvoisier laughed.
“I’m certain of one thing: von Francius will go on slapping the public’s face. I won’t say how it will end; but it would not surprise me in the least to see the public at his feet, as it is now at those of—”
“Humph!” said Karl, reflectively.
He did not stay much longer, but having finished his cigar, rose. He seemed to feel very apologetic, and out of the fullness of his heart his mouth spake.