"I tell you I can't," the Queen said; "I don't know what I've done to make you go on in this ridiculous way."
"It's the elixir. You've been drinking it, you know," the demon gentleman said; "and so I can't help it. But if you won't marry me, madam, perhaps we can do a little business in my line. I pride myself that my system is the very best—the seven years' purchase system, you know."
"I don't understand you at all," the Queen said.
"Why, it's very simple. You give me what I want, and I will re-erect for you the desirable family residence that stood here, with all its advantages—the delightfully secluded spot, the landscape, the well of pure water, and the fowl-house with its stock of geese. Come, let me fill you up a form."
"Yes, but what do I have to do for it?" the Queen said.
And he answered, "Oh, a mere trifle—only a formality."
"But what is it?"
"Oh, you only give me your soul—it's nothing at all."
"My soul!" the Queen said. "Certainly not."
"But I'll make you rich," the gentleman said.