Hardly had the charming vision disappeared ere Ascott, hitherto so frigid and impassive in demeanor, showed a complete change of attitude, marching up and down M. Moche’s office in the throes of a feverish excitement. But the old scamp pretended not to notice anything, busily occupied it seemed in sorting his papers. Suddenly he started round; the Englishman was addressing him. “Monsieur Moche, Monsieur Moche!” he called. Then in hesitating accents Ascott went on:
“Monsieur Moche, you have a niece, sir ... and a devilish pretty girl she is!”
“Well, yes,” the old brigand observed, feigning not to understand the young man’s drift, “it’s true she has fine eyes, but she’s quite a child yet ... the ‘awkward age,’ you know ... later on, I don’t say, when she’s developed a bit; then her good mother and I will find the girl a good husband.”
“Moche,” broke in Ascott, “I want to know your niece.”
“But,” returned the villain, still with the same affectation of naïveté, “you do know her, didn’t I introduce you?”
“You are a trifle obtuse, Monsieur Moche, or else a bit too clever; it’s not in that sense I wish to know her, not I. Your niece is to my taste; at the present moment I have no mistress ...”
The old “advocate” sprang back, feigning the most extravagant indignation:
“Oh, sir, sir,” he cried, “my dear sir, no, upon my word, I could never have believed that of you; do you dare to come to me to make such a proposal? Certainly I’m not a rich man, and little Nini’s sole and only capital is her virtue and her beauty—it is something, it is a great deal even—but by the Lord God, I give you my oath, I will never, never agree to such a bargain. What do you take me for?”
But Ascott still persisted:
“I take you, Monsieur Moche, for a man of common-sense ... come now, I or another, what harm can it do you?... while, seeing it is I——”