"This arm of thine."
"Why?"
"It is one and a half inches longer than mine."
"Well?"
"A gift! To have the longest arm in Paris! Mon Dieu!"
"What of that?"
"A fortune! Phenomenal! Superb! And a chest—and muscles! By Hercules, they are as hard as horn!"
"Well?"
"Diable! Thou art dull for a thief."
François had a high opinion of himself. He said: "Perhaps. What next?"