“I beg your pardon,” I cried, wholly mystified by this form of words.
“You pay me a hundred down,” he repeated, “and I’ll take the chaise. It’s very little more than it cost,” he added, with a grin, “and you know you must get it off your hands somehow.”
I do not know when I have been better entertained than by this impudent proposal. It was broadly funny, and I suppose the least tempting offer in the world. For all that, it came very welcome, for it gave me the occasion to laugh. This I did with the most complete abandonment, till the tears ran down my cheeks; and ever and again, as the fit abated, I would get another view of the landlord’s face, and go off into another paroxysm.
“You droll creature, you will be the death of me yet!” I cried, drying my eyes.
My friend was now wholly disconcerted; he knew not where to look, nor yet what to say; and began for the first time to conceive it possible he was mistaken.
“You seem rather to enjoy a laugh, sir,” said he.
“O yes! I am quite an original,” I replied, and laughed again.
Presently, in a changed voice, he offered me twenty pounds for the chaise; I ran him up to twenty-five, and closed with the offer; indeed, I was glad to get anything; and if I haggled, it was not in the desire of gain, but with the view at any price of securing a safe retreat. For, although hostilities were suspended, he was yet far from satisfied; and I could read his continued suspicions in the cloudy eye that still hovered about my face. At last they took shape in words.
“This is all very well,” says he: “you carry it off well; but for all that, I must do my duty.”
I had my strong effect in reserve: it was to burn my ships with a vengeance! I rose. “Leave the room,” said I. “This is insufferable. Is the man mad?” And then, as if already half-ashamed of my passion: “I can take a joke as well as any one,” I added; “but this passes measure. Send my servant and the bill.”