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Swiftwater Bill stood up, clinging with one hand to the back of the front seat and waving the other to attract her attention. His lips were pursed for the piercing whistle for which he was famous and which Daylight knew of old, when Daylight, with a hook of his leg and a yank on the shoulder, slammed the startled Bill down into his seat. "You m-m-must know the lady," Swiftwater Bill spluttered.
"Prince! prince!" gasped Tartarin pallid as a ghost, as he clung to the dry tuft of the hump, "prince, let's get down. I find I feel that I m-m-must get off; or I shall disgrace France." A deal of good that talk was the camel was on the go, and nothing could stop it.
M-m-must know all about the m-m-matter, all the resources and the debts, if you d-d-don't want to be r-r-ruined. Hein? isn't it so?" "Certainly," said the president. "I'm of opinion that in a few months the debts might be bought up for a certain sum, and then paid in full by an agreement. Ha! ha! you can coax a dog a long way if you show him a bit of lard.
"I'm only a p-p-poor wine-g-grower, and know n-nothing about wh-what you have just t-told me; I m-m-must th-think about it." "Very good," said the president, preparing to resume his argument. "Nephew!" said the notary, interrupting him in a warning tone. "Well, what, uncle?" answered the president. "Let Monsieur Grandet explain his own intentions. The matter in question is of the first importance.
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