"Th-then s-s-sublime th-things c-c-cost d-dear," answered the goodman, as the banker warmly wrung his hand. "But this, my dear Grandet, if the president will excuse me, is a purely commercial matter, and needs a consummate business man. Your agent must be some one fully acquainted with the markets, with disbursements, rebates, interest calculations, and so forth.
"And these th-things aren't any thicker than spider webs." "Wait. I'll build you a great big fire." And he scooped up a number of dead twigs. There was an interlude of more silk rustling, then: "P-P-Pierre." "Well?" "I wish I had a m-m-m-mirror." "Jack, are you vain?" A cry of delight answered him. He threw caution to the winds and advanced on her.
"And these th-things aren't any thicker than spider webs." "Wait. I'll build you a great big fire." And he scooped up a number of dead twigs. "P-P-Pierre! D-d-d-don't you d-d-dare c-come in s-sight of m-me." "D-d-damn it! I don't want to see you." "P-Pierre! Aren't you ash-sh-sh-shamed to talk like that?" "Jack, this damned collar won't button." "K-k-eep t-t-t-trying." "Come help me." "Pierre!