ke. Take it," he added with a sigh, holding out the
watch.

"But ... That is clever," the barrister said in confusion. "I didn't
notice it at all."

"That's our business," Yasha said with pride.

He swaggered back to his comrades. Meantime the orator took a drink
from his glass and continued.

"Now, gentlemen, our next collaborator will give you an exhibition of
some ordinary card tricks, which are worked at fairs, on steamboats
and railways. With three cards, for instance, an ace, a queen, and a
six, he can quite easily... But perhaps you are tired of these
demonstrations, gentlemen."...

"Not at all. It's extremely interesting," the chairman answered
affably. "I should like to ask one question--that is if it is not too
indiscreet--what is your own specialty?"

"Mine... H'm... No, how could it be an indiscretion?... I work the big
diamond shops ... and my other business is banks," answered the orator
with a modest smile. "Don't think this occupation is easier than
others. Enough that I know four European languages, German, French,
English, and Italian, not to mention Polish, Ukrainian and Yiddish.
But shall I show you some more experiments, Mr. Chairman?"

The chairman looked at his watch.

"Unfortunately the time is too short," he said. "Wouldn't it be better
to pass on to the substance of your business? Besides, the experiments
we have just seen have amply convinced us of the talent of your
esteemed associates... Am I not right, Isaac Abramovich?"

"Yes, yes ... absolutely," the Karaite barrister readily confirmed.

"Admirable," the gentleman in the sandy suit kindly agreed. "My dear
Count"--he turned to a blond, curly-haired man, with a face like a
billiard-maker on a bank-holiday--"put your instruments away. They
will not be wanted. I have only a few words more to say, gentlemen.
Now that you have convinced yourselves that our art, although it does
not enjoy the patronage of high-placed individuals, is nevertheless an
art; and you have probably come to my opinion that this art is one
which demands many personal qualities besides constant labour, danger,
and unpleasant misunderstandings--you will also, I hope, believe that
it is possible to become attached to its practice and to love and
esteem it, however strange that may appear at first sight. Picture to
yourselves that a famous poet of talent, whose tales and poems adorn
the pages of our best magazines, is suddenly offered the chance of
writing verse