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francs.’
If the waiter had three hundred francs he would hand it
over, and, of course, never see it again. The duke made quite
a lot in this way. Probably the waiters did not mind being
swindled. A duke is a duke, even in exile.
It was through one of these Russian refugees that Boris
heard of something which seemed to promise money. Two
days after we had pawned the overcoats, Boris said to me
rather mysteriously:
‘Tell me, MON AMI, have you any political opinions?’
‘No,’I said.
‘Neither have I. Of course, one is always a patriot; but
still—Did not Moses say something about spoiling the
Egyptians? As an Englishman you will have read the Bible.
What I mean is, would you object to earning money from
Communists?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Well, it appears that there is a Russian secret society in
Paris who might do something for us. They are Commu-
nists; in fact they are agents for the Bolsheviks. They act as
a friendly society, get in touch with exiled Russians, and try
to get them to turn Bolshevik. My friend has joined their so-
ciety, and he thinks they would help us if we went to them.’
‘But what can they do for us? In any case they won’t help
me, as I’m not a Russian.’
‘That is just the point. It seems that they are correspon-
dents for a Moscow paper, and they want some articles on
English politics. If we got to them at once they may com-
mission you to write the articles.’
Down and Out in Paris and London