He closed one eye, and looked abstractedly at the light through his glass of pale yellow Brauneberger with the other. 'England? Yes, England! Well, see, miss, you hev not been raised in business. Business is business. The way to do it in Germany is--to manufacture for yourself: and I've got my works started right here in Frankfort. The way to do it in England--where capital's dirt cheap--is, to sell your patent for every cent it's worth to an English company, and let them boom or bust on it.' 'I see,' I said, catching at it. 'The principle's as clear as mud, the moment you point it out to one. An English company will pay you well for the concession, and work for a smaller return on its investment than you Americans are content to receive on your capital!' 'That's so! You hit it in one, miss! Which will you take, a cigar or a cocoa-nut?' I smiled. 'And what do you think you will call the machine in Europe?' He gazed hard at me, and stroked his straw-coloured moustache. 'Well, what do _you_ think of the _Lois Cayley_?' 'For Heaven's sake, no!' I cried, fervently. 'Mr. Hitchcock, I implore you!' He smiled pity for my weakness. 'Ah, high-toned again?' he repeated, as if it were some natural malformation under which I laboured. 'Oh, ef you don't like it, miss, we'll say no more about it. I am a gentleman, I am. What's the matter with the _Excelsior_?' 'Nothing, except that it's very bad Latin,' I objected. 'That may be so; but it's very good business.' He paused and mused, then he murmured low to himself, '"When through an Alpine village passed." That's where the idea of the _Excelsior_ comes in; see? "It goes up Mont Blanc," you said yourself. "Through snow and ice, A cycle with the strange device, Excelsior!"' 'If I were you,' I said, 'I would stick to the name _Manitou_. It's original, and it's distinctive.' 'Think so? Then chalk it up; the thing's done. You may not be aware of it, miss, but you are a lady for whose opinion in such matters I hev a high regard. _And_ you understand Europe. I do not. I admit it. Everything seems to me to be _verboten_ in Germany; and everything else to be _bad form_ in England.' We walked down the steps together. 'What a picturesque old town!' I said, looking round me, well pleased. Its beauty appealed to me, for I had fifty pounds in pocket, and I had lunched sumptuously. '_Old_ town?' he repeated, gazing with a blank stare. 'You call this town _old_, do you?' 'Why, of course! Just look at the cathedral! Eight hundred years old, at least!' He ran his eye down the streets, dissatisfied. 'Well, ef this town is old,' he said at last, with a snap of his fingers, 'it's precious little for its age.' And he strode away towards the railway station. 'What about the bicycle?' I asked; for it lay, a silent victor, against the railing of the steps, surrounded by a crowd of inquiring Teutons. He glanced at it carelessly. 'Oh, the wheel?' he said. 'You may keep it.'