'No, no!' cried out Cesare; 'something must be settled. Either in or out. Perhaps we will get it this week—that is to say, to-morrow; or it may be necessary to sacrifice some more, next week, and then win. Really, you should oblige me,' he added, going back to his trouble.
'I can't,' retorted Don Gennaro.
'As a fact, I am an honest trader: anyone would do business with me!' Cesare called out, beginning to get angry.
'If it is business, that is another thing,' said Don Gennaro, giving in suddenly.
'Well, let us treat it as business,' said Cesare, calming down at once.
Then Don Gennaro quietly opened the safe and drew out a blank bill, of a thousand francs' value. Taking a finely-carved wooden pen, with a gold nib, he wrote the sum in figures and words, and asked, without raising his head:
'To fall due in a month?'
'Yes, in a month,' agreed Fragalà. Don Gennaro handed the promissory note to him. It was headed 'Domenico Mazzocchi.' 'Domenico Mazzocchi—who is that?' asked Fragalà, astounded.
'He is the capitalist I work for,' Parascandolo answered icily. Seeing that after Fragalà signed he was going to put down his dwelling-house, he stopped him warningly. 'Put down the address of the shop.'
'Why so?'