"Eh! That is lucky," remarked the artist with an almost imperceptible
smile. "As I was saying," he continued, "five thousand francs is not the
National Bank, but it is a very pretty little sum, especially when there
is something more to be expected in the future."

"That depends on the future. But I do not call it a sum. Nothing under
twenty thousand is a sum, properly speaking."

"Who has twenty thousand francs?" laughed Marzio, shrugging his
shoulders with an incredulous look.

"You talk as though Rome were an asylum for paupers," returned
Carnesecchi. "Who has twenty thousand francs? Why, everybody has. You
have, I have. One must be a beggar not to have that much. After all, we
are talking about business, Sor Marzio. Why should I not say it? I have
always said that I would not marry with less than that for a dowry. Why
should one throw away one's opportunities? To please some one? It is not
my business to try and please everybody. One must be just."

"Of course. What? Am I not just? But if justice were done, where would
some people be? I say it, too. If you marry my daughter, you will expect
a dowry. Have I denied it? And then, five thousand is not so little.
There is the outfit, too; I have to pay for that."

"That is not my affair," laughed the lawyer. "That is the business of
the woman. But five thousand francs is not my affair either. Think of
the responsibilities a man incurs when he marries! Five thousand! It is
not even a cup of coffee! You are talking to a _galantuomo_, an honest
man, Sor Marzio. Reflect a little."