“I might try to renew that bill, and then I could perhaps help you,” he mumbled.
Tord had an instinctive feeling that his last proposal had been the best one, and that he ought to talk to his sisters and brother. But he did not stick to it, so incurably lazy was he.
“Well, what will you give?” he asked in a voice that was thick with excitement.
Peter writhed. He seemed quite in despair.
“I might risk about fifty thousand.”
Tord thought it sounded too absurdly little compared with what he had received before.
“Damn you!” he shouted.
Peter began again with an injured expression to pack his bag. And Tord asked Dagmar to bring out his town clothes.
“Sixty-five thousand,” Peter suddenly ejaculated.
“A hundred thousand!” Tord hissed through the gap in his teeth.