"It is I who came to listen," said Mr. Ramirez, with great suavity. "It is of the news I would hear." "Yes," said Mr. Dumphy, signing his name rapidly to several documents, "Yes, _Yes_, YES." He finished them, turned rapidly upon Ramirez, and said "Yes!" again, in such a positive manner as to utterly shipwreck that gentleman's self-control. "Ramirez!" said Dumphy abruptly, "how much have you got in that thing?" Mr. Ramirez, still floating on a sea of conjecture, could only say, "Eh! Ah! It is what?" "How _deep_ are you? How much would you _lose_?" Mr. Ramirez endeavoured to fix his eyes upon Dumphy's. "How--much--would I lose?--if how? If what?" "What--money--have--you--got--in--it?" said Mr. Dumphy, emphasising each word sharply with the blunt end of his pen on the desk. "No money! I have much interest in the success of Madame Devarges!" "Then you're not 'in' much! That's lucky for you. Read that letter.--Show him in!" The last remark was in reply to a mumbled interrogatory of the clerk, who had just entered. Perhaps it was lucky for Mr. Ramirez that Mr. Dumphy's absorption with his new visitor prevented his observation of his previous visitor's face. As he read the letter, Ramirez's face first turned to an ashen-grey hue, then to a livid purple, then he smacked his dry lips thrice, and said "_Carámba!_" then with burning eyes he turned towards Dumphy. "You have read this?" he asked, shaking the letter towards Dumphy. "One moment," interrupted Dumphy, finishing the conversation with his latest visitor, and following him to the door. "Yes," he continued, returning to his desk and facing Ramirez. "Yes!" Mr. Ramirez could only shake the letter and smile in a ghastly way at Dumphy. "Yes," said Dumphy, reaching forward and coolly taking the letter out of Ramirez's hand, "Yes. Seems she is going to get married," he continued, consulting the letter. "Going to marry the brother, the man in possession. That puts you all right; any way, the cat jumps; and it lets _you_ out." With the air of having finished the interview, Mr. Dumphy quietly returned the letter, followed by Ramirez's glaring eyes, to a pigeon-hole in his desk, and tapped his desk with his penholder. "And you--you?" gasped Ramirez hoarsely, "you?"