"What is it now?" faltered Grobstock.
"I miss a pair of pantaloons!"
"'I MISS A PAIR OF PANTALOONS!' HE SHRIEKED."
Grobstock grew whiter. "Nonsense! nonsense!" he muttered.
"I—miss—a—pair—of—pantaloons!" reiterated the Schnorrer deliberately.
"Oh, no—you have all I can spare there," said Grobstock uneasily. The Schnorrer hastily turned over the heap.
Then his eye flashed fire; he banged his fist on the dressing-table to accompany each staccato syllable.
"I—miss—a—pair—of—pan—ta—loons!" he shrieked.
The weak and ductile donor had a bad quarter of a minute.