“No, not at all,” I said. “It’s such a good way to economize on food. No need to spend money shopping—I just stick my hand somewhere, and presto! You’re not the only one who loves money. Do you know how greedy I am?”
“I suspected you were,” Sir Maba said. “Is this true, Juffin?”
“And how! You know what he sometimes eats? Some strange little sausage hidden inside a big bun. It’s disgusting. And he enjoys it!”
“I’ve adored hot dogs my whole life.” I was already tired of this subject. “The consequences of a deprived childhood, and all that. And look who’s talking! That Kettarian ‘delicacy’ of yours . . .”
“I’ve got your numbers, boys,” Maba said. “You’re so much alike sometimes, it’s just unbelievable. You know, Max, Juffin thinks that you’ve seen through his little trick, so . . . Well, so now you might be a bit angry with us.”
“No way!” I exclaimed. “I’m already used to people making a fool of me, so don’t worry!”
Sir Maba stood up and went over to the window.
“We’re not worried. Come over here and take a look.”
I went over to the window and froze. It didn’t look out onto the garden at all, but onto a very familiar street. Dumbfounded, I stared at the yellow paving stones, then raised my eyes. A small fountain played merrily, sending its multihued spray into the sky.
“High Street?” I asked hoarsely. “Is it Kettari?”
“Well, at least it’s not the border of the County Vook,” Juffin replied cheerfully behind me.
“Only, don’t tell your friend Old Mackie about this window. Agreed?”
Sir Maba Kalox winked at me.
“He doesn’t have to worry. Fierce old Juffin isn’t planning to climb through it.” And Sir Maba lightly tapped his nose with the forefinger of his right hand.
Two good people can always come to an understanding. There’s no denying it.