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.