"You sent him the money?" Philip cried. "And your own partner you didn't tell nothing about it at all!"
"What is it your business supposing I am sending money to the old country?" Marcus retorted. "Do you ask me an advice when you are sending away money to the old country?"
"But the feller didn't bury his aunt at all," Philip said.
"Yes, he did too," the former Joseph Borrochson protested. "Instead of a hundred dollars the funeral only costs fifty. Anybody could make an overestimate. Ain't it?"
Marcus nodded.
"The boy is right, Philip," he said, "and anyhow what does this loafer come butting in here for?"
As he spoke he indicated Meyer Gifkin with a jerk of the chin.
"He ain't butting in here," Philip declared; "he comes in here because I told him to. I want you should make an end of this nonsense, Polatkin, and hire a decent assistant cutter. Gifkin is willing to come back for twenty dollars a week."
"He is, is he?" Marcus cried. "Well, if he was willing to come back for twenty dollars a week why didn't he come back before? Now it's too late; I got other plans. Besides, twenty dollars is too much."
"You know very well why I ain't come back before, Mr. Polatkin," Gifkin protested. "I was afraid for my life from that murderer Borrochson."