"Bet you!" He said. "'Don't let it be long between the drinks.' There's a wine-shop two blocks away."
Maryska stepped forward, as keen as a hound. She held out her hand for the money without any shame at all—she and her father had been holding it out for years—yet some of Louis' gifts in return had been more precious than gold.
"How much shall I give you?" Faber asked. She replied that a kronen would be ample. He gave it her, and she was away in a flash.
They smoked a space in silence when she was gone. Presently Faber said: "Business good down this way?"
Louis did not like the tone of it, and the quills of his pride stiffened. "What's that to you?"
"Might be a good deal—I'm in dead earnest."
"What's your line—pills or powder?"
"I'm neither. I make guns."
"Want me to fire 'em off—well, I'm ready. What's the size?"
Faber smiled.