" He paused for a moment; then bending forward, his
hands on his little knees--he was sitting far back in the chair and his
legs were dangling like a child's--he regarded me intently.
"Would you be equally chivalrous for the sake of an idea?"
I replied that I hoped I should conduct myself _en galant homme_ in any
circumstances.
"I knew it," he cried. "My intuition is never wrong. An English
statesman is as fearless as Agamemnon, and as wise as Nestor. Have you
your evening free?"
"Yes," I replied wonderingly.
"Would you care to devote it to a perilous adventure? Not so perilous,
for I"--he thumped his chest--"will be there. But still _molto
gefahrlich_."
His black eyes held mine in burning intensity. So as to hide a smile I
lit a cigarette. I know not what little imp in motley possessed me that
evening. He seemed to hit me over the head with his bladder, and counsel
me to play the fool like himself, for once in my life before I died. I
could almost hear him speaking.
"Surely a crazy dwarf out of a nightmare is more entertaining company
than decayed Colonels of British Cavalry.
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