Besides we are all mortal.

Let us come to a settlement." An amiable smile smoothed the landlord wrinkles and even his empty bag swelled with hope.
"What do I owe you ?" asked Rodolphe.
"In the first place, we have three months' rent at twenty-five francs, that makes seventy-five francs." "Errors excepted," said Rodolphe.

"And then ?" "Then three pairs of boots at twenty francs." "One moment, one moment, Monsieur Benoit, do not let us mix matters, this is no longer to do with the landlord but the bootmaker.

I want a separate account.

Accounts are a serious thing, we must not get muddled." "Very good," said Monsieur Benoit, softened by the hope of at length writing "Paid" at the foot of his accounts.