"Yes, I know them. This one told me he liked a bit of a lark! I know myself what a lark it is to navigate the Ab-i-Diz, at the end of July! But what is most curious about these English boys is that when they go out for a bit of a lark they come home with Egypt or India in their pocket. Have you noticed that, Ganz? That's their idea of a bit of a lark. And with it all they are still children. What can one do with such people? A bit of a lark! Well, you will perhaps make me a little annoyance, Mr. Adolf Ganz, by sending your English boy up to Dizful to have a bit of a lark. However, he'll either give himself a sunstroke or get himself bitten in two by a shark. He asked me about the channel, and I had an inspiration. I told him he would have no trouble. So he'll go full speed and we shall see what we shall see. Do you sell coffins, Mr. Ganz, in addition to all your other valuable merchandise?" "Naturally, Mr. Magin," replied the Swiss. "Do you need one? But you haven't explained to me yet why you give me the pain of saying good-bye to you a second time." "Partly, Mr. Ganz, because I am tired of sleeping in an oven, and partly because I--the Father of Swords has asked me to run up to Bala Bala before I leave. But principally because I need a case or two more of your excellent _vin de champagne_--manufactured out of Persian petroleum, the water of the Karun, the nameless abominations of Shuster, and the ever effervescing impudence of the Swiss Republic!" "What can I do?" smiled the flattered author of this concoction. "I have to use what I can get, in this Godforsaken place." "And I suppose you will end by getting a million, eh?" "No such luck! But I'm getting a piano. Did I tell you? A Bluethner. It's already on the way up from Mohamera." "A Bluethner! In Shuster! God in heaven! Why did you wait until I had gone?" "Well, aren't you still here?" The fact of Magin's being still there, so unexpectedly, hung in his mind. "By the way, speaking of the Father of Swords, did you give him an order?" "I gave him an order. Didn't you pay it?" "I thought twice about it. For unless you have struck oil, up in that country of yours where nobody goes, or gold--" "Mr. Adolf Ganz," remarked the Brazilian with some pointedness, "all I ask of you is to respect my signature and to keep closed that many-tongued mouth of yours. I sometimes fear that in you the banker is inclined to exchange confidences with the chemist--or even with the son of Papa who cashes a check. Eh?" Ganz cleared his throat. "In that case," he rejoined, "all you have to do is to ask him, when you meet him again at Bala Bala. And the English bank will no doubt be happy to accept the transfer of your account." Magin began to chuckle.