"I thank you, both on his behalf and on mine, monseigneur."
He came nearer and nearer to the fireplace, rolling all the time the little bit of paper between his fingers. Finally he stretched out his arm towards the fireplace, but, holding my hand between the paper and the flames, I said—
"Pardon, monseigneur."
"What do you want?"
"That bit of paper...."
"Why?"
"It is my brokerage."
"What will you do with it?"
"I will have it framed."
"Oh, I know you are quite capable of doing that. Let me burn it."