"My good old friend, there are feelings," said Ramin, spreading his fingers over the left pocket of his waistcoat—"there are feelings," he repeated, "that cannot be subdued. One such feeling brought me here. The fact is, I am a good-natured easy fellow, and I never bear malice. I never forget an old friend, but love to forget old differences when I find one party in affliction."
He drew a chair forward as he spoke, and composedly seated himself opposite to his late master.
Monsieur Bonelle was a thin old man, with a pale sharp face and keen features. At first he eyed his visitor from the depths of his vast arm-chair; but, as if not, satisfied with this distant view, he bent forward, and laying both hands on his thin knees, he looked up into Ramin's face with a fixed and piercing gaze. He had not, however, the power of disconcerting his guest.
"What did you come here for?" he at length asked.
"Merely to have the extreme satisfaction of seeing how you are, my good old friend. Nothing more."
"Well, look at me—and then go."
Nothing could be so discouraging: but this was an Excellent Opportunity, and when Monsieur Ramin had an excellent opportunity in view, his pertinacity was invincible. Being now resolved to stay, it was not in Monsieur Bonelle's power to banish him. At the same time he had tact enough to render his presence agreeable. He knew that his coarse and boisterous wit had often delighted Monsieur Bonelle of old, and he now exerted himself so successfully as to betray the old man two or three times into hearty laughter. "Ramin," said he at length, laying his thin hand on the arm of his guest, and peering with his keen glance into the mercer's purple face, "you are a funny fellow, but I know you; you cannot make me believe you have called just to see how I am, and to amuse me. Come, be candid for once; what do you want?"
Ramin threw himself back in his chair, and laughed blandly, as much as to say, "Can you suspect me?"
"I have no shop now out of which you can wheedle me," continued the old man; "and surely you are not such a fool as to come to me for money."
"Money!" repeated the draper, as if his host had mentioned something he never dreamt of. "Oh, no!"