Hyacinth always admired the cool, easy way in which Muniment comported himself when the attention of the public was directed towards him. These manifestations of curiosity, or of hostility, would have put him out immensely, himself. When a lot of people, especially the kind of people who were collected at the 'Sun and Moon,' looked at him, or listened to him, at once, he always blushed and stammered, feeling that if he couldn't have a million of spectators (which would have been inspiring), he should prefer to have but two or three; there was something very embarrassing in twenty.
Muniment smiled, for an instant, good-humouredly; then, after a moment's hesitation, looking across at the German, and the German only, as if his remark were worth noticing, but it didn't matter if the others didn't understand the reply, he said simply, 'Hoffendahl's in London.'
'Hoffendahl? Gott in Himmel!' the cabinet-maker exclaimed, taking the pipe out of his mouth. And the two men exchanged a longish glance. Then Mr. Schinkel remarked, 'That surprises me, sehr. Are you very sure?'
Muniment continued, for a moment, to look at him. 'If I keep quiet for half an hour, with so many valuable suggestions flying all round me, you think I say too little. Then if I open my head to give out three words, you appear to think I say too much.'
'Ah, no; on the contrary, I want you to say three more. If you tell me you have seen him I shall be perfectly satisfied.'
'Upon my word, I should hope so! Do you think he's the kind of party a fellow says he has seen?'
