"'Have you many children, sir?' Gobseck asked gravely.

"The Count winced at the question; it was as if the old money-lender,
like an experienced physician, had put his finger at once on the sore
spot. The Comtesse's husband did not reply.

"'Well,' said Gobseck, taking the pained silence for answer, 'I know
your story by heart. The woman is a fiend, but perhaps you love her
still; I can well believe it; she made an impression on me. Perhaps,
too, you would rather save your fortune, and keep it for one or two of
your children? Well, fling yourself into the whirlpool of society,
lose that fortune at play, come to Gobseck pretty often. The world
will say that I am a Jew, a Tartar, a usurer, a pirate, will say that
I have ruined you! I snap my fingers at them! If anybody insults me, I
lay my man out; nobody is a surer shot nor handles a rapier better
than your servant. And every one knows it. Then, have a friend--if you
can find one--and make over your property to him by a fictitious sale.
You call that a _fidei commissum_, don't you?' he asked, turning to me.

"The Count seemed to be entirely absorbed in his own thoughts.

"'You shall have your money to-morrow,' he said, 'have the diamonds
in readiness,' and he went.

"'There goes one who looks to me to be as stupid as an honest man,'
Gobseck said coolly when the Count had gone.

"'Say rather stupid as a man of passionate nature.'