“That’s the way,” concluded one, “with all these adventurous affairs.”
“That’s a fact. There’s nothing, after all, like government bonds.”
“Or a first mortgage on good property, with subrogation of the wife’s rights.”
But what exasperated them all was not to be admitted to the presence of M. de Thaller, and to see that servant mounting guard before the door.
“What impudence,” they growled, “to leave us on the stairs!—we who are the masters, after all.”
“Who knows where M. de Thaller may be?”
“He is hiding, of course.”
“No matter: I will see him,” clamored a big fat man, with a brick-colored face, “if I shouldn’t stir from here for a week.”
“You’ll see nothing at all,” giggled his neighbor. “Do you suppose they don’t have back-stairs and private entrances in this infernal shop?”
“Ah! if I believed any thing of the kind,” exclaimed the big man in a voice trembling with passion. “I’d soon break in some of these doors: it isn’t so hard, after all.”