It was always his ambition to be the banker of all the Bourbons in the world.

The last remnants of his hair were dyed jet black and the ends of his moustache were like knitting needles.

He was disposed to be as soft as wax in my hands.

Unfortunately I had had some irritating interviews during the day.

I was keeping down sudden impulses to smash a glass, throw a plate on the floor, do something violent to relieve my feelings.