“I have been thinking that myself.”
“She is a very charming girl.”
“Who?”
“Mlle.—what do you call her?—Powhair?”
“Bah!” said Toto. “I’d as soon think of marrying the Bank of France.”
“Parbleu!” murmured De Nani. “What an extraordinary remark! But everything that comes from Prince Toto is extraordinary, even his pictures.”
He had the bank-note safe in his pocket, and could allow himself the luxury of a little irony in the guise of praise.
“Firstly,” said Toto, “she’s too rich; and secondly, my mother wants me to marry her.”
“True,” said De Nani. “She is also gauche, and speaks through her beautiful nose like a trumpet.”