He called for another absinthe. Stroeve, with voluble tongue, explained
how he and I had met, and by what an accident we discovered that we
both knew Strickland. I do not know if Strickland listened. He glanced
at me once or twice reflectively, but for the most part seemed occupied
with his own thoughts; and certainly without Stroeve’s babble the
conversation would have been difficult. In half an hour the Dutchman,
looking at his watch, announced that he must go. He asked whether I
would come too. I thought, alone, I might get something out of
Strickland, and so answered that I would stay.
When the fat man had left I said:
“Dirk Stroeve thinks you’re a great artist.”
“What the hell do you suppose I care?”
“Will you let me see your pictures?”
“Why should I?”
“I might feel inclined to buy one.”
“I might not feel inclined to sell one.”
“Are you making a good living?” I asked, smiling.
He chuckled.
“Do I look it?”
“You look half starved.”
“I am half starved.”
“Then come and let’s have a bit of dinner.”
“Why do you ask me?”
“Not out of charity,” I answered coolly. “I don’t really care a
twopenny damn if you starve or not.”
His eyes lit up again.
“Come on, then,” he said, getting up. “I’d like a decent meal.”
Chapter XXI
I let him take me to a restaurant of his choice, but on the way I
bought a paper. When we had ordered our dinner, I propped it against a
bottle of St. Galmier and began to read. We ate in silence. I felt him
looking at me now and again, but I took no notice. I meant to force him
to conversation.
“Is there anything in the paper?” he said, as we approached the end of
our silent meal.
I fancied there was in his tone a slight note of exasperation.
“I always like to read the _feuilleton_ on the drama,” I said.
I folded the paper and put it down beside me.
“I’ve enjoyed my dinner,” he remarked.
“I think we might have our coffee here, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
We lit our cigars. I smoked in silence. I noticed that now and then his
eyes rested on me with a faint smile of amusement. I waited patiently.
“What have you been up to since I saw you last?” he asked at length.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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