“Pardon me,” said the second traveller. “We do not wish to make ourselves disagreeable. You are too quick to take offence. I am in the habit of travelling a great deal. During the last ten years, my friend and I have been almost always en route. Whenever we find ourselves in company, we ask how it happens, where our companions come from, and where they are going. That helps to while away the time, and injures no one.”
“And is that all you travel for?” asked Eusebe.
“What an idea! We are travelling clerks: we represent two of the first houses in Paris.”
“However great my simplicity may be,” replied Eusebe, “I think there are no first houses in Paris, and, what is more, that there can be none, since the first on arriving from the north are the last when one comes from the south.”
They arrived at Paris, and Martin, junior, got out of the car.
With his valise in his hand, Eusebe stepped out of the depot, when a cabman cried out to him,—
“Here you are, sir! Where shall I drive you to, sir?”
“I don’t know,” replied Eusebe.
“It’s not me that’ll tell you, then.”
“I have not asked you.”