"It'd sell well at Jobson's." "The poor foreign dey-vil that made it," went on Swithin, "asked me five hundred--I gave him four.

It's worth eight.

Looked half-starved, poor dey-vil!" "Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live.

Now, there's young Flageoletti, that Fanny and the girls are always hav'in' in, to play the fiddle; if he makes a hundred a year it's as much as ever he does!" James shook his head.

"Ah!" he said, "I don't know how they live!" Old Jolyon had risen, and, cigar in mouth, went to inspect the group at close quarters.
"Wouldn't have given two for it!" he pronounced at last.
Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance at each other anxiously; and, on the other side of Swithin, Bosinney, still shrouded in smoke.
'I wonder what he thinks of it ?' thought Soames, who knew well enough that this group was hopelessly vieux jeu; hopelessly of the last generation.