“I would not be so rash as to imagine anything of the kind, my dear Keyork. I know you very well. If you offer me one it is because you have a week’s supply at least.”
“Exactly,” said Keyork. “And a few to spare, because they will only keep a week as I like them, and because I would no more run the risk of missing my orange a week hence for your sake, than I would deprive myself of it to-day.”
“That is my simplicity. It is indeed a perfectly simple matter, for there is only one idea in it, and in all things I carry that one idea out to its ultimate expression. That one idea, as you very well put it, is to have exactly what I want in this world.”
“And will you be getting what you want in having me quartered upon you as poor Israel Kafka’s keeper?” asked the Wanderer, with an expression of amusement. But Keyork did not wince.
“Precisely,” he answered without hesitation. “In the first place you will relieve me of much trouble and responsibility, and the Individual will not be so often called away from his manifold and important household duties. In the second place I shall have a most agreeable and intelligent companion with whom I can talk as long as I like. In the third place I shall undoubtedly satisfy my curiosity.”
“I shall discover the secret of your wonderful interest in Israel Kafka’s welfare. I always like to follow the workings of a brain essentially different from my own, philanthropic, of course. How could it be anything else? Philanthropy deals with a class of ideas wholly unfamiliar to me. I shall learn much in your society.”
“And possibly I shall learn something from you,” the Wanderer answered. “There is certainly much to be learnt. I wonder whether your ideas upon all subjects are as simple as those you hold about oranges.”
“Absolutely. I make no secret of my principles. Everything I do is for my own advantage.”
“Then,” observed the Wanderer, “the advantage of Unorna’s life must be an enormous one to you, to judge by your satisfaction at her safety.”
Keyork stared at him a moment and then laughed, but less heartily and loudly than usual his companion fancied.
“Very good!” he exclaimed. “Excellent! I fell into the trap like a rat into a basin of water. You are indeed an interesting companion, my dear friend--so interesting that I hope we shall never part again.” There was a rather savage intonation in the last words.