“Pardon me, Mr. Drexel, if I refuse to be catechized upon matters pertaining to my official business,” he returned, coldly.
“And pardon me, prince, if I insist.”
The tense seriousness of Drexel caught his attention. “Eh—what’s the matter?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Oh, I suppose there is no reason why I should not tell you; it will be all over the city to-morrow. He is Borski.”
Drexel leaned forward. “Yes—but do you know who else he is?”
“I think that knowing he is Borski is quite enough,” was the grim response.
“Not enough for you, prince.”
“For me? What do you mean?”
“That for you he is some one far more important than Borski.”