“Oh! Don’t you remember Paul Springer, the son of the Swiss watch-maker?”
“Is that you, Paul?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because I should have liked it had it been the fat man or one of his friends, so I could have cut him open with my fist.”
“I see that you are just as crazy as ever.”
“I, crazy? I’m one of the few people on this planet in their right senses! Moreover, I have decided to become a man of action. Believe me!”
“I can’t believe anything of you now, my lad. What you ought to do is to put on your coat and go to bed. Come, I’ll go with you.”
Quentin assented, and went home with his friend.