“You have even grown thin and your brow is sallow. Is it true that you get drunk every night in the company of your...friends?”
“It seems so.”
“...that you play cards, squander your gold, and that recently some one had been nearly murdered at your table?”
“I fear that is true. I recollect that one gentleman actually tried to pierce another gentleman with his fork. And how do you know all about that?”
He replied sternly and significantly:
“Toppi was here yesterday. He wanted to see...Maria but I myself received him. With all due respect to you, Wondergood, I must say that your secretary is unusually stupid.”
I acquiesced coldly.
“You are quite right. You should have driven him out.”
I must say for my part, that my last two glasses of wine evaporated from me at the mention of Maria’s name, and our attempted conversation was marked by continued evaporation of the wine I drank, like perfume out of a bottle. I have always regarded wine as unreliable matter. We found ourselves again listening to the storm and I remarked:
“The wind seems to be growing more violent, Signor Magnus.”