“You live very well here,” said Slim, leaning back and surveying the room with a sweeping movement of his head. “Everything of a soft, half-dark tone. The atmosphere about these cushions is a tepid perfume. I can well understand how difficult it will be for you to leave this flat.” “I have no such intention, however,” said Josaphat. He swallowed. Slim pressed his eye-lids together, as though he wished to sleep. “No.... Not yet.... But very soon....” “I should not think of it,” answered Josaphat. His eyes grew red, and he looked at Slim, hatred smouldering in his gaze. “No.... Not yet.... But very soon....” Josaphat stood quite still: but suddenly he smote the air with his fist, as though beating against an invisible door. “What do you want exactly?” he asked pantingly. “What is that supposed to imply? What do you want from me—?” It appeared at first as though Slim had not heard the question. Sleepily, with closed eye-lids, he sat there, breathing inaudibly. But, as the leather of the chairback squeaked under Josaphat’s grasp, Slim said, very slowly, but very clearly: “I want you to tell me for what sum you will give up this flat, Josaphat.” “... When?...” “Immediately.” “... What is that supposed to mean.... Immediately?...” Slim opened his eyes, and they were as cold and bright as a pebble in a brook. “Immediately means within an hour.... Immediately means long before this evening....” A shiver ran down Josaphat’s back. The hands on his hanging arms slowly clenched themselves into fists. “Get out, sir ...” he said quietly. “Get out of here—! Now—! At once—! _Immediately—!_” “The flat is very pretty,” said Slim. “You are unwilling to give it up. It is of value to one who knows how to appreciate such things. You will not have time to pack any large trunks, either. You can only take what you need for twenty-four hours. The journey—new outfit—a year’s expenses—all this is to be added to the sum: what is the price of your flat, Josaphat?” “I shall chuck you into the street,” stammered Josaphat with feverish mouth. “I shall chuck you seven stories down into the street—through the window, my good sir!—through the closed window—if you don’t get out this very second!” “You love a woman. The woman does not love you. Women who are not in love are very expensive. You want to buy this woman. Very well. The threefold cost of the flat.... Life on the Adriatic coast—in Rome—on Teneriffe—on a splendid steamer around the world with a woman who wants to be bought anew every day—comprehensible, Josaphat, that the flat will be expensive ... but to tell you the truth, I must have it, so I must pay for it.”