crazy
when you allow these bunches to slip through your fingers like this. I
suppose you are so rich already that you absolutely refuse to make more
money! You are getting to be such a hard nut, too, Monsieur, I warn
you, that most brokers are scared to come to you. Were it not that four
hundred thousand francs are not everyone's money, I should not sit here
now, be sure. But where in Paris is there another dealer who can lay
his hands on so much cash at a moment's notice?"
"But that is the reason, my dear Blisky, why I want to buy at my own price!"
Just
then a clerk enters the room and hands the merchant a slip of paper. He
glances at it and says, "Show the lady in," and turning to the broker
adds, "If you care to wait in the next room, I may have another look
presently."
There
enters briskly, brushing past the retiring Blisky, a woman middle-aged,
good-looking, and self-possessed. With businesslike directness she
states her requirements immediately. A client of hers needs so many
pearls of such a size and quality for three sautoirs. If Monsieur has them in stock, she can vouch for a sure sale and spot cash.
Grun
almost gasps, but not quite. Strange coincidence! The fellow in the
next room has the very thing tucked away in his leather wallet. What
luck that he asked him to wait!
"Madame
Moulin," he says impressively, "I believe I can accommodate your
client, but the goods are out at the moment. If you will give me an
hour, I will recall them and you can submit them to your client."
Blisky,
however, though a decent fellow and no eavesdropper, has happened to
hear all this. The door has been left ajar by accident, and now he
knows what is afoot. He decides he is tired of waiting, in spite of the
luxuriousness of the waiting-room and the comfort of the easy-chair. He
lets himself out and travels down in the groaning lift—for he never
believes in walking if he can ride.
He has not long to wait in the street below. Voiture! Voiture! There they go, Madame Moulin and Blisky, as fast
