THE AMERICAN
the next thing brought out. "However, she will know."
"Ah then, you will—which I see you don't yet. But what you'll know will be what you want, for that's the way things turn out for you." And Valentin's grave fine eyes, as if under some impression oddly quickened, measured him again a moment up and down. "The way you cover the ground! However, being as you are a giant, you move naturally in seven-league boots." With which again he turned restlessly off.
Newman's attention, from before the fire, followed him a little. "There's something the matter with you to-night: you're kind of perverse—you're almost kind of vicious. But wait till I'm through with my business—to which I wish to give just now my undivided attention—and then we'll talk. By which I mean I 'll fix you somehow."
"Ah, there will be plenty of me for you, such as I am—for you always. Only when, then," Valentin asked, "is the event?"
"About five weeks hence—on a day not quite yet settled."
He accepted this answer with interest, in spite of which, however, "You feel very confident of the future?" he next attentively demanded.
"Confident," said Newman with the large accent from which semitones were more than ever absent. "I knew what I wanted exactly, and now I know what I've got."
"You're sure then you're going to be happy?"
"Sure?"—Newman competently weighed it. "So
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