"Ah, by the way! While I think of it!... You realize that, because of this little affair, I owe a certain courtesy to the Marquis de Meuze.... Would it hurt your feelings to lunch here with him?" "Between you and me, I wouldn't care to," the Galician grunted after a pause. "Why not? Oh! I can guess.... The Marquis's opinions! Well, first of all, if there is nothing else to stop you, you may rest assured.... I have already told him you were a good Jew." "My dear friend, I wish you would not use that expression!" Schleifmann said nervously. "Have I not taught you that there are no bad Jews? At the most, it can only be said that there are degenerate Jews...." "Besides," Cyprien went on, "the Marquis seemed to me very much calmed down on this subject! If you knew all the kind things he said concerning several of your co-religionists!" "It was one of two things," Schleifmann said dryly. "Either he was laughing at you or he is a bad Catholic." "He! He adores the curés!" "He may adore the curés," the Galician retorted, in the same tone. "But, as a good Catholic, he cannot love the Jews.... Catholic religion means universal religion.... So long as there remains one heretic on the globe, the crusade remains open.... Wriggle out of this if you can!... And is it not natural? Religions thrive on fanaticism alone and perish through tolerance alone." "So, you approve of the Saint Bartholomew, the Inquisition, and the Dragonnades?" exclaimed Cyprien, whose bourgeois background was shocked by the sharpness of these aphorisms. "As of the Terror!" Schleifmann replied. "Or rather I do not approve of them, but I can explain their existence.... Such events are political measures which happen to be useful to a party.... You cannot sow the seeds of such beliefs on dry soil, by means of reasoning; they germinate only in blood and blossom only through fear." "Accordingly, if the Revolution were to come back, you would, if necessary, have my head cut off!" "Who knows?" Schleifmann replied, with a half sarcastic smile. "If you had become too rich!" Although he relished a jest of this nature very little, M. Raindal affected to be amused. "All right, Schleifmann! In advance of getting my head chopped off, you already seem to be pulling my leg, old man. I have told you, and I repeat it, the Marquis no longer harbors any appreciable intolerance. Going, going, going! Do you refuse to lunch with him?" "Well, I am willing," the Galician replied contemptuously. "But later, say in a year, I shall be more precise and name the day; it shall be on the day that follows the smash up of the mines.... Yes, on that day, I shall be delighted to converse with your friend the Marquis about the Jews and tolerance." Cyprien shrugged his shoulders. "One cannot be serious for a minute with you.... Oh, well! Let's drop it. You refuse to join us; we can eat without you!" Schleifmann did not reply, but busied himself with stuffing the head of his mermaid.