"You'll have to do the same now, only instead of giving the paper to any one you'll have to leave it in a banker's hands to draw the money for yourself."
"And can that be done over in California?"
"Just the same as here. Your bankers will manage it all for you without the slightest trouble. For the matter of that I'll do it, if you'll trust me. There's only one thing against it all, Miss Melmotte."
"And what's that?"
"After the sort of society you've been used to here, I don't know how you'll get on among us Americans. We're a pretty rough lot, I guess. Though, perhaps, what you lose in the look of the fruit, you'll make up in the flavour." This Fisker said in a somewhat plaintive tone, as though fearing that the manifest substantial advantages of Frisco would not suffice to atone for the loss of that fashion to which Miss Melmotte had been used.
"I hate swells," said Marie, flashing round upon him.
"Do you now?"
"Like poison. What's the use of 'em? They never mean a word that they say,—and they don't say so many words either. They're never more than half awake, and don't care the least about anybody. I hate London."
"Do you now?"
"Oh, don't I?"