'Ve didn't expect you here to-day,' said the member for Staines.
'Nor did I expect to come. But there isn't much to do at Westminster while the ballot is going on; so I came up, just to look at the letters. The dinner went off pretty well yesterday, eh?'
'Uncommon;--nothing better. Vy did the Lord Mayor stay away, Melmotte?'
'Because he's an ass and a cur,' said Mr Melmotte with an assumed air of indignation. 'Alf and his people had got hold of him. There was ever so much fuss about it at first,--whether he would accept the invitation. I say it was an insult to the City to take it and not to come. I shall be even with him some of these days.'
'Things will go on just the same as usual, Melmotte?'
'Go on. Of course they'll go. What's to hinder them?'
'There's ever so much been said,' whispered Cohenlupe.
'Said;--yes,' ejaculated Melmotte very loudly. 'You're not such a fool, I hope, as to believe every word you hear. You'll have enough to believe, if you do.'
'There's no knowing vat anybody does know, and vat anybody does not know,' said Cohenlupe.
'Look you here, Cohenlupe,'--and now Melmotte also sank his voice to a whisper,--'keep your tongue in your mouth; go about just as usual, and say nothing. It's all right. There has been some heavy pulls upon us.'
'Oh dear, there has indeed!'
'But any paper with my name to it will come right.'
'That's nothing;--nothing at all,' said Cohenlupe.
'And there is nothing;--nothing at all! I've bought some property and have paid for it; and I have bought some, and have not yet paid for it. There's no fraud in that.'
'No, no,--nothing in that.'
'You hold your tongue, and go about your business. I'm going to the bank now.' Cohenlupe had been very low in spirits, and was still low in spirits; but he was somewhat better after the visit of the great man to the City.
Mr Melmotte was as good as his word and walked straight to the bank. He kept two accounts at different banks, one for his business, and one for his private affairs. The one he now entered was that which kept what we may call his domestic account. He walked straight through, after his old fashion, to the room behind the bank in which sat the manager and the manager's one clerk, and stood upon the rug before the fireplace just as though nothing had happened,--or as nearly as though nothing had happened as was within the compass of his powers. He could not quite do it. In keeping up an appearance intended to be natural he was obliged to be somewhat milder than his wont. The manager did not behave nearly as well as he did, and the clerks manifestly betrayed their emotion. Melmotte saw that it was so;--but he had expected it, and had come there on purpose to 'put it down.'