“M’sieu?”
“You’re so clever! Where is that Yellow Devil now?”
“Pouf!” giggled Fifi. “On its way to Berlin, pardie!”
“That’s easy to say. Tell me something else more expensive.”
Nini said, surprised:
“What we know is free to Prince Erlik’s friend. Did you think we sell to Russians?”
“I don’t know anything about you or where you get your information,” said Neeland. “I suppose you’re in the Secret Service of the Russian Government.”
“Mon ami, Nilan,” said Fifi, smiling, “we should feel lonely outside the Secret Service. Few in Europe are outside—few in the world, fewer in the half-world. As for us Tziganes, who belong to neither, the business of everybody becomes our secret to sell for a silver piece—but not to Russians in the moment of peril!... Nor to their comrades.... What do you desire to know, comrade?”
“Anything,” he said simply, “that might help me to regain what I have lost.” 345
“And what do you suppose!” exclaimed Fifi, opening her magnificent black eyes very wide. “Did you imagine that nobody was paying any attention to what happened in the rue Soleil d’Or this noon?”