what had befallen him when I ran into him one day in Hatton Garden.
"Strange,"
said I to him, "that I should meet you to-day, of all days!" And I
explained that I was writing a book on gems and that I had only the
previous night spoken of him in connection with olivines.
"So you have put me into your book! That was nice of you."
"You need not thank me," I said, "for I only gave your initial letter. One cannot be too discreet." "Did you then say anything bad about me?" he queried. "I couldn't have said anything bad, my good friend, had I wanted to do so."
"Then,"
said he, "please put my full name into your book, for thus shall the
remembrance of me linger a little longer than it would otherwise have
done in a world which could be so very beautiful if there were no
Bolsheviks in it and no snakes."
"I will do your bidding, Oftschnikoff." I bid him au revoir and we went our several ways.
