work permitted himself a little sentiment over the bottle, and to a man
he thought his friend. He let out that he had a heap of money he did not
know what to do with, and almost hated it now his mother was gone and
could not share it.

The man of law consoled him with oleaginous phrases: told him he very
much underrated the power of money. His hoard, directed by a judicious
adviser, would make him a landed proprietor, and the husband of some
young lady, all beauty, virtue, and accomplishment, whose soothing
influence would soon heal the sorrow caused by an excess of filial
sentiment.

"Halt!" shouted Raynal: "say that again in half the words."

Perrin was nettled, for he prided himself on his colloquial style.

"You can buy a fine estate and a chaste wife with the money," snapped
this smooth personage, substituting curt brutality for honeyed
prolixity.

The soldier was struck by the propositions the moment they flew at him
small and solid, like bullets.

"I've no time," said he, "to be running after women. But the estate I'll
certainly have, because you can get that for me without my troubling my
head."

"Is it a commission, then?" asked the other sharply.

"Of course. Do you think I speak for the sake of talking?"