"Nev-air!" Pierre shouted. "Nev-air, and nev-air do I come back!" He bristled out of the store, turned to fling a final "Nev-air, pig!" back into it, and confronted Jeff.
"You know what he do?" he screamed. "I need the knife, the good hunting knife! For it he wants a doll-air and twenty-five cents!"
"Maybe they're worth that much."
"Non! Nev-air!" He looked seriously at Jeff. "You sell the hunting knife?"
"I do not compete with merchants."
"You sell the hunting knife?" Pierre repeated.
"I—"
"Sell me the hunting knife!"
"But—"
"This I demand! Sell me the hunting knife!"