And what a coat! I did think there was nobody but Poiret who could show the like after that after ten years' public exposure to the inclemencies of Parisian weather." "Baudoyer is magnificent," said du Bruel.
"Dazzling," answered Bixiou.
"Gentlemen," said Baudoyer, "let me present you to my own uncle, Monsieur Mitral, and to my great-uncle through my wife, Monsieur Bidault." Gigonnet and Mitral gave a glance at the three clerks so penetrating, so glittering with gleams of gold, that the two scoffers were sobered at once.
"Hein ?" said Bixiou, when they were safely under the arcades in the place Royale; "did you examine those uncles ?--two copies of Shylock.
I'll bet their money is lent in the market at a hundred per cent per week.

They lend on pawn; and sell most that they lay hold of, coats, gold lace, cheese, men, women, and children; they are a conglomeration of Arabs, Jews, Genoese, Genevese, Greeks, Lombards, and Parisians, suckled by a wolf and born of a Turkish woman." "I believe you," said Godard.

"Uncle Mitral used to be a sheriff's officer." "That settles it," said du Bruel.
"I'm off to see the proof of my caricature," said Bixiou; "but I should like to study the state of things in Rabourdin's salon to-night.

You are lucky to be able to go there, du Bruel." "I!" said the vaudevillist, "what should I do there?
My face doesn't lend itself to condolences.

And it is very vulgar in these days to go and see people who are down.".