Wine did not come, but in its place came John Faber. For a moment, Louis thought that a customer had crossed the seas to buy his pictures. Then he said that the firm, which was suspended because of its suspenders, had sent an embassy with the cash. However it might be, he determined to borrow five crowns of the stranger, and saluted him with princely politeness. Maryska, meanwhile, stood up ready to go to the wine-shop. III Faber took off his hat at the entrance to the cavern, and blinked in the darkness. He saw a handsome man squatting on the floor, and behind him a pair of eyes which glowed as a cat's. They belonged to Maryska; but he did not know, indeed, he wondered if there were wild beasts in the place. "Say, does anyone named Louis de Paleologue live here?" The accent transplanted father and daughter to New York in an instant. What years they had lived there! How they regretted them! "He does, sir, and what then?" "You are Mr. Paleologue?" "That is so. My daughter--she doesn't bite--at least, only me!" Maryska's teeth were to be counted on the instant. She laughed as the Italians laugh, without reservations. "_Accidenti!_" she cried, and then coming out into the light, "_caro mio_--he is too tough, poppa, I should spoil my teeth!" Faber saluted her in a way he intended to be Continental. "You have been in New York, signorina?" "Five years, mister. I am all Americano!" "Then I'll walk right in, if I may." He did not wait for permission, but entered the cavern. It was evident that he would have liked a chair, but seeing none, he accepted a mat which she offered. "Poppa burned all the chairs long ago. Can you sit down on nothing, mister?" He said that he could, looking at Maryska all the while. Louis took a box of Bosnian cigarettes from the floor and passed it over. "Say, are you thirsty, boss?" Faber smiled at that. "Well, this is thirsty ground. As the governor said--but I guess ye don't know what the governor----" "Bet you!" He said. "'Don't let it be long between the drinks.' There's a wine-shop two blocks away." Maryska stepped forward, as keen as a hound. She held out her hand for the money without any shame at all--she and her father had been holding it out for years--yet some of Louis' gifts in return had been more precious than gold. "How much shall I give you?" Faber asked. She replied that a kronen would be ample. He gave it her, and she was away in a flash. They smoked a space in silence when she was gone. Presently Faber said: "Business good down this way?" Louis did not like the tone of it, and the quills of his pride stiffened. "What's that to you?" "Might be a good deal--I'm in dead earnest." "What's your line--pills or powder?" "I'm neither. I make guns." "Want me to fire 'em off--well, I'm ready. What's the size?" Faber smiled.