as other folks," suggested the lady, in a very audible whisper.

Monsieur shook his head, and muttered something about the expense.

"There is no harm, at all events," urged madame, "in asking the price."

"My charge for gallery portraits, madame, varies from sixty to a hundred
francs," said Müller.

"Heavens! how dear! Why, my own portrait is to be only fifty."

"Sixty, Madame, if we put in the hands and the jewelry," said Müller,
blandly.

"_Eh bien_!--sixty. But for these other things.... bah! _ils sont
fierement chers_."

"_Pardon_, madame! The elegancies and superfluities of life are, by a
just rule of political economy, expensive. It is right that they should
be so; as it is right that the necessaries of life should be within the
reach of the poorest. Bread, for instance, is strictly necessary, and
should be cheap. A great-grandfather, on the contrary, is an elegant
superfluity, and may be put up at a high figure."

"There is some truth in that," murmured Monsieur Tapotte.

"Besides, in the present instance, one also pays for antiquity."

"_C'est juste--C'est juste_."