"The operation doesn't take place every day." "Well, your young men are very shabby," said Newman; "that's all I can say.

They ought to pay for your daughter, and not ask money themselves." "Those are very noble ideas, monsieur; but what will you have?
They are not the ideas of this country.

We want to know what we are about when we marry." "How big a portion does your daughter want ?" M.Nioche stared, as if he wondered what was coming next; but he promptly recovered himself, at a venture, and replied that he knew a very nice young man, employed by an insurance company, who would content himself with fifteen thousand francs.
"Let your daughter paint half a dozen pictures for me, and she shall have her dowry." "Half a dozen pictures--her dowry! Monsieur is not speaking inconsiderately ?" "If she will make me six or eight copies in the Louvre as pretty as that Madonna, I will pay her the same price," said Newman.
Poor M.Nioche was speechless a moment, with amazement and gratitude, and then he seized Newman's hand, pressed it between his own ten fingers, and gazed at him with watery eyes.

"As pretty as that?
They shall be a thousand times prettier--they shall be magnificent, sublime.
Ah, if I only knew how to paint, myself, sir, so that I might lend a hand! What can I do to thank you?
Voyons!" And he pressed his forehead while he tried to think of something.
"Oh, you have thanked me enough," said Newman.
"Ah, here it is, sir!" cried M.Nioche.

"To express my gratitude, I will charge you nothing for the lessons in French conversation." "The lessons?
I had quite forgotten them.