"I can't tell you, I don't know. The cane suited me, because at need I could use it to defend myself." "My Chinese switch was a famous weapon of defence, too." "What! a switch?" "Remember that it was a _nerf de boeuf._ I could have killed a calf with it." "What a curious idea of those Chinese to make canes with _nerfs de boeuf!_" "An additional proof, my dear Monsieur Courbichon, that the Chinese are much more advanced than we are--much more progressive! They build houses of india-rubber." "Hard rubber, of course?" "I don't know whether it's hard or not--it makes no difference. Pardieu! Monsieur Courbichon, you must agree that there are lucky chances, and that we were both happily inspired when we went to that cafe to-day!" "It is certain, monsieur, that otherwise----" "You would never have seen your charming cane again. Are you married, Monsieur Courbichon?" "I have been married, monsieur, but I am a widower." "A superb position for a man still young and made to please the ladies." "Oh! monsieur, I am fifty-five." "That is the very prime of life, the age at which a man makes most conquests, because he knows better how to go about it. Ah! I would like to be fifty-five! I hope to get there, but I haven't yet. You have some means?" "Five or six thousand francs a year, which I made in dried fruit." "A very pretty business!--That isn't a magnificent fortune, but it is that pleasant mediocrity so highly praised by Horace. Do you know Horace?" "Yes, I have seen it played at the Theatre-Francais." "Ah! I guess we will stop there! Have you children, excellent Courbichon?" "I have a daughter, monsieur,--a married daughter; I have set her up in business." "In dried fruit?" "No, monsieur; she is in olive oil." "Oh! the deuce! that's very different! But it will preserve her longer. You have no other daughter?" "No, monsieur." "What a pity!" "Why so, monsieur?" "Because I feel so strongly attracted to you that I would have asked her hand in marriage. Faith! yes, I would have renounced my liberty, which I have never done yet--but there's an end to everything. Does your son-in-law enjoy good health?" "Yes, monsieur, excellent!" "So much the worse!" "Why so much the worse?" "Because, if he should die soon, I might marry his widow." "Oh! what an idea, monsieur!" "He is in good health, so there's an end of that; let us say no more about it. Don't be alarmed; I have no idea of killing him. If he had insulted me, I don't say----" "A thousand pardons, monsieur; but I should be very glad to know your name." "My name? So you have forgotten it, have you? But I was called by name often enough at young Blanquette's wedding party--while I was dancing with Aunt Merlin." "I don't remember it." "My name is Arthur Cherami." Courbichon, thinking that his companion was addressing him as his dear friend (_cher ami_), replied: "Oh! yes, your name is Arthur---- Nothing more?"