"Good!" cried M. Mirabeau. "Proof that she pities you, and what more could you ask for a beginning? She believes you were unjustly accused of cheating at cards, that there was a plot to ruin you and to drive you out of the Army, and that your grandfather ought to be hung to a lamp post for believing what she doesn't believe. Good! Now we are on solid, substantial ground. What time is it, Bramble?" Mr. Bramble looked at a half-dozen clocks in succession. "I'm blessed if I know," he said. "They range from ten o'clock to half-past six." "Just three hours and twenty-two minutes to wait," said Thomas Trotter. CHAPTER VI THE UNFAILING MEMORY PRINCE WALDEMAR DE BOSKY, confronted by the prospect of continued cold weather, decided to make an appeal to Mrs. Moses Jacobs, sometime Princess Mariana di Pavesi. She had his overcoat, the precious one with the fur collar and the leather lining,--the one, indeed, that the friendly safe-blower who lodged across the hall from him had left behind at the outset of a journey up-state. "More than likely," said the safe-blower, who was not only surprised but gratified when the "little dago" came to visit him in the Tombs, "more than likely I sha'n't be needin' an overcoat for the next twelve or fourteen year, kid, so you ain't robbin' me,--no, sir, not a bit of it. I make you a present of it, with my compliments. Winter is comin' on an' I can't seem to think of anybody it would fit better'n it does you. You don't need to mention as havin' received it from me. The feller who owned it before I did might accidentally hear of it and--but I guess it ain't likely, come to think of it. To the best of my recollection, he lives 'way out West somewhere,--Toledo, I think, or maybe Omaha,--and he's probably got a new one by this time. Much obliged fer droppin' in here to see me, kid. So long,--and cut it out. Don't try to come any of that thanks guff on me. You might as well be usin' that coat as the moths. Besides, I owe you something for storage, don't forget that. I was in such a hurry the last time I left town I didn't have a chance to explain. You didn't know it then,--and I guess if you had knowed it you wouldn't have been so nice about lookin' out for my coat durin' the summer,--but I was makin' a mighty quick getaway. Thanks fer stoppin' in to remind me I left the coat in your room that night. I clean forgot it, I was in such a hurry. But lemme tell you one thing, kid, I'll never ferget the way you c'n make that fiddle talk. I don't know as you'd 'a' played fer me as you used to once in awhile if you'd knowed I was what I am, but it makes no difference now. I just loved hearin' you play. I used to have a hard time holdin' in the tears. And say, kid, keep straight. Keep on fiddlin'! So long! I may see you along about 1926 or 8. And say, you needn't be ashamed to wear that coat. I didn't steal it.