"Nonsense, my dear fellow! The name of an alderman will carry every thing before it. Does not the world believe that the Aldermen of the City of London are all as rich as Crœsus?"
"Whereas, between you and me," returned Tomlinson with a sly laugh, "there is scarcely one of them who has got a penny if his affairs came to be wound up."
"And yet we live gloriously, ha! ha!" chuckled Mr. Alderman Sniff. "But to return to my business: what can you do for me?"
"I can certainly recommend the enterprise," answered Tomlinson. "But where can the marble be seen?"
"At my office," said the alderman. "I went and bought the finest piece that was ever imported from Italy; and there it is in my counting-house, labelled 'British Marble' in letters at least half a foot high."
"Where is the quarry situated?" inquired Tomlinson.
"Oh! I haven't quite made up my mind about that yet," was the answer given by Mr. Alderman Sniff. "The truth is, I am going down into Wales this week, and I shall buy the first field I can get cheap in some rude part of the country. That is the least difficulty in the whole enterprise."
"Your plans are admirable, my dear sir," exclaimed Tomlinson. "I will do all I can for you. Will you take a glass of wine and a biscuit?"
"No, I thank you—not now," said the Alderman. "I have promised a colleague to sit for him to-day at Guildhall police-court. Last week I was on the rota for attendance there, and I remanded a man who was brought up on a charge of obtaining three and sixpence under false pretences."
"Indeed?" ejaculated Tomlinson, whose eyes were fixed upon the "Two Hundred Thousand Pounds" in the alderman's prospectus.