“To what you settle on her.”
“To her position, to her expectations,” replied Mr. Brookes, growing more and more angry.
“But I don't know what her expectations are; you may marry again.”
“I do not intend to marry again.”
“Very possibly, but I know nothing of that; business is business, and I should be a fool if I settle five hundred to your two hundred.”
Mr. Brookes stopped in his walk, and he looked at Berkins, who stood, his hand laid upon the billiard table as upon a huge balance sheet. The word business had carried the men back to their offices in London, and, quite forgetful of the subject of their bargaining, each strove to obtain an advantage over the other.
“Well, let us say two hundred and fifty, that is my last word.”
“Then, Mr. Brookes, I will not take your daughter.”