|Date:||Wed, 20 Sep 2006 05:46:08 +0300|
But he has neither thetime to ask nor the habit of asking himself such questions. The agent replied in a cadaverous tone: Two hundred thousand, plusthe costs. We offer twohundred thousand, Gabard, my friend, cash down.
A burst of laughter interrupted him: Three hundred and fiftythousand! Gabard instinctively covered the papers with his arms.
He scanned his brothersface with a sort of bewilderment. Their prevailing impression was that of anopen wound in the flank of the town. Ga-bard, sinking back in his armchair,tried to slip his hand towards the bell. The elder of thebrothers Simler remains speechless.
A broken pane hadtime to snip out a reflection of the sun, and was submerged.
A hole filled with rubbish at the footof the weighing machine. Could notthese cursed carters keep their coal in their own store, by the canal,confound them!
Hey, Guillaume, that is where the big pots of theplace meet. A manswears as he thrashes with his whip the skeleton of his beast.
But it is the reserve price that I wantto find. The night itself weighs upon him like a solidified mass. The agent replied in a cadaverous tone: Two hundred thousand, plusthe costs. Their prevailing impression was that of anopen wound in the flank of the town. Joseph shut the book and flung it upon the table. Nor that the merchants were in the habit of loadingtheir wagons so full.
Before lying down again he scrutinises his brother.
His head bare beneath thesun, he set off along the alley with a firm step.
To make money, one must come where money ismade. Of what shall I be thinking, six months from now, when I pass by thiswall? A herd of beasts, mortallystricken, were uttering down there their deathcry.
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