"Quite a problem," lazily answered Kovroff, chewing the end of his cigar. "But you are asking too much."
"But that is not all," the count interrupted him; "listen! This is what my problem demands. We must think of some project that unites two precious qualities: first, a rapid and huge profit; second, entire absence of risk."
"Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill," remarked Kovroff doubtfully.
"So it seems. And daring plans are not to be picked up in the street, but are the result of inspiration. It is what is called a 'heavenly gift,' my dear friend."
"And you have had an inspiration?" smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with a slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism.
"I have had an inspiration," replied the supposititious Hungarian nobleman, falling into the other's tone.
"And your muse is——?"
"The tenth of the muses," the count interrupted him: "another name is
Industry."
"She is the muse of all of us."
"And mine in particular. But we are not concerned with her, but with her prophetic revelations."