"Twelve and sixpence is the least I will take. Eliphaz Green haggles so terribly."
They split the difference, and so eleven and threepence represented the predominance of Eliphaz Green's stinginess over Volcovitch's.
The very next day Sugarman invaded the Green work-room. Rose bent over her seams, her heart fluttering. Leibel had duly apprised her of the roundabout manner in which she would have to be won, and she had acquiesced in the comedy. At the least it would save her the trouble of father-taming.
Sugarman's entry was brusque and breathless. He was overwhelmed with joyous emotion. His blue bandanna trailed agitatedly from his coat-tail.
"At last!" he cried, addressing the little white-haired master-tailor, "I have the very man for you."
"Yes?" grunted Eliphaz, unimpressed. The monosyllable was packed with emotion. It said: "Have you really the face to come to me again with an ideal man?"
"He has all the qualities that you desire," began the Shadchan, in a tone that repudiated the implications of the monosyllable. "He is young, strong, God-fearing—"
"Has he any money?" grumpily interrupted Eliphaz.
"He will have money," replied Sugarman unhesitatingly, "when he marries."
"Ah!" The father's voice relaxed, and his foot lay limp on the treadle. He worked one of his machines himself, and paid himself the wages so as to enjoy the profit. "How much will he have?"