I wouldn't say that." "Well--let him be a scoundrel then.

What the devil do I care." "But hold on! You haven't heard the end of the story." Renouard, his hat on his head already, sat down with the disdainful smile of a man who had discounted the moral of the story.

Still he sat down and the Editor swung his revolving chair right round.

He was full of unction.
"Imprudent, I should say.

In many ways money is as dangerous to handle as gunpowder.