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"Are you talking of Mouchieu Ponsh?" asked the marine store-dealer. He was sitting smoking on the curb-post in the gateway, and now he rose to join in the conversation. "Yes, Daddy Remonencq." "All right," said Remonencq, "ash to moneysh, he ish better off than Mouchieu Monishtrol and the big men in the curioshity line.
"Thank you, good-day, good-day," broke in Pons, eying the marine store-dealer uneasily. "I will go to the door with him, for fear he should touch something," La Cibot whispered to her patient. "Yes, yes," answered the invalid, thanking her by a glance. La Cibot shut the bedroom door behind her, and Pons' suspicions awoke again at once. She found Magus standing motionless before the four pictures.
The house brought in about eight thousand francs for there were three complete sets of apartments back and front, on the side nearest the Rue de Normandie, as well as the three floors in the older mansion between the courtyard and the garden, and a shop kept by a marine store-dealer named Remonencq, which fronted on the street.
"What oath can a Jew swear?" she inquired. "You may trust him," replied the marine store-dealer. "He is as honest as I am." "Very well; and you?" asked she, "if I get him to sell them to you, what will you give me?" "Half-share of profits," Remonencq answered briskly. "I would rather have a lump sum," returned La Cibot; "I am not in business myself."
And even now if I liked Look here, sir, you know that little scrubby marine store-dealer downstairs? Very well, he would marry me any day, if I were a widow that is, with his eyes shut; he has had them looking wide open in my direction so often; he is always saying, 'Oh! what fine arms you have, Ma'am Cibot!
Cibot's masculine beauty, her vivacity, her market-woman's wit, had all been remarked by the marine store-dealer. He thought at first of taking La Cibot from her husband, bigamy among the lower classes in Paris being much more common than is generally supposed; but greed was like a slip-knot drawn more and more tightly about his heart, till reason at length was stifled.
Cibot's masculine beauty, her vivacity, her market-woman's wit, had all been remarked by the marine store-dealer. He thought at first of taking La Cibot from her husband, bigamy among the lower classes in Paris being much more common than is generally supposed; but greed was like a slip-knot drawn more and more tightly about his heart, till reason at length was stifled.
"Are you talking of Mouchieu Ponsh?" asked the marine store-dealer. He was sitting smoking on the curb-post in the gateway, and now he rose to join in the conversation. "Yes, Daddy Remonencq." "All right," said Remonencq, "ash to moneysh, he ish better off than Mouchieu Monishtrol and the big men in the curioshity line.
"What oath can a Jew swear?" she inquired. "You may trust him," replied the marine store-dealer. "He is as honest as I am." "Very well; and you?" asked she, "if I get him to sell them to you, what will you give me?" "Half-share of profits," Remonencq answered briskly. "I would rather have a lump sum," returned La Cibot; "I am not in business myself."
"Thank you, good-day, good-day," broke in Pons, eying the marine store-dealer uneasily. "I will go to the door with him, for fear he should touch something," La Cibot whispered to her patient. "Yes, yes," answered the invalid, thanking her by a glance. La Cibot shut the bedroom door behind her, and Pons' suspicions awoke again at once. She found Magus standing motionless before the four pictures.
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