"But my husband is not in a position ..."
"Be less cruel than usual for once," the man from the Ghetto said to the young woman in a low voice, "and allow me to lay this sable skin at your feet."
"I presume that you are joking."
"Not I ..."
"I think you must be joking, as I cannot think that you intend to insult me."
"But, Baroness, I love you...."
"That is one reason more why you should not make me angry."
"But ..."
"Oh! I am in such a rage," the energetic little woman said; "I could flog you like Venus in the Fur[2] did her slave."
"Let me be your slave," the Stock Exchange baron replied ardently, "and I will gladly put up with everything from you. Really, in this sable cloak, and with a whip in your hand, you would make a most lovely picture of the heroine of that story."