“Yes, Monsieur Xirdal.”
“Is he alone?”
“Yes.”
Zephyrin pushed the padded door and stalked into the room.
“Hallo! you here?” said the banker in an interrogative tone.
“Since you see me here in flesh and blood,” replied Zephyrin, “I may remark that your question is an idle one and that an answer would be supererogatory.”
Accustomed to his godson’s singularities, Monsieur Lecoeur laughed good-humouredly.
“That’s so,” he acquiesced. “Yet you might have said yes more simply. And may I ask the object of your visit?”
“You may, for...”
“After all, it’s useless,” interrupted Monsieur Lecoeur. “My second question is as superfluous as the first, experience having proved to me that I never see you except when you want money.”
“But,” objected Zephyrin, “are you not my banker?”
“True,” said M
