"And your nephew Andre, where is he?"
"Don't speak of it! he was in luck yesterday. Barbillon and the Big Cripple took him away; he only came back this morning; he is already gone on an errand to the post-office, Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau."
"And your brother Martial, is still savage?"
"I do not know anything about him."
"You don't know anything about him?"
"No," said Nicholas, affecting an indifferent manner; "for two days we have not seen him; perhaps he has returned to his old trade of a poacher—unless his boat, which was very old, has sunk in the river, and he with—"
"That don't give you much concern, good-for-nothing, for you can't feel it much!"
"It is true, one has his own ideas. How many pounds of copper are there?"
"You made a good guess—one hundred and forty-eight pounds, my boy."
"And you will owe me—"