"Hallo, Mawruss," Hymie cried. "What's the good word?"
Morris grunted an inarticulate greeting.
"What you got all the shades down for, Abe?" he asked.
"Don't touch 'em," Hymie said. "Just you have a look at this sample-table first."
Hymie seized Morris by the arm and turned him around until he faced the velveteen.
"Ain't them peaches, Mawruss?" he asked.
Morris stared at the diamonds, almost hypnotized by their brilliancy.
"Them stones belong to you, Mawruss," Hymie went on, "if I don't pay you inside of two weeks the thousand dollars what you're going to lend me."
"We ain't going to lend you no thousand dollars, Hymie," Morris said at last, "because we ain't got it to lend. We need it in our own business, Hymie, and, besides, you got the wrong idee. We ain't no pawnbrokers, Hymie; we are in the cloak and suit business."
"Hymie knows it all about that, Mawruss," Abe broke in, "and he shows he ain't no crook, neither. If he's willing to trust you with them diamonds, Mawruss, we should be willing to trust him with a thousand dollars. Ain't it?"