Part 2 (2/2)
”It must be eight or nine since we met.”
”Something of that sort. We were very young.”
”It was in St. Louis, during the war. You were in the army.”
”Oh no, not I! But you were.”
”I believe I was.”
”You came out all right?”
”I came out with my legs and arms--and with satisfaction. All that seems very far away.”
”And how long have you been in Europe?”
”Seventeen days.”
”First time?”
”Yes, very much so.”
”Made your everlasting fortune?”
Christopher Newman was silent a moment, and then with a tranquil smile he answered, ”Yes.”
”And come to Paris to spend it, eh?”
”Well, we shall see. So they carry those parasols here--the menfolk?”
”Of course they do. They're great things. They understand comfort out here.”
”Where do you buy them?”
”Anywhere, everywhere.”
”Well, Tristram, I'm glad to get hold of you. You can show me the ropes.
I suppose you know Paris inside out.”
Mr. Tristram gave a mellow smile of self-gratulation. ”Well, I guess there are not many men that can show me much. I'll take care of you.”
”It's a pity you were not here a few minutes ago. I have just bought a picture. You might have put the thing through for me.”
”Bought a picture?” said Mr. Tristram, looking vaguely round at the walls. ”Why, do they sell them?”
”I mean a copy.”
”Oh, I see. These,” said Mr. Tristram, nodding at the t.i.tians and Vand.y.k.es, ”these, I suppose, are originals.”
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