He only sold about a thousand dollars' worth of stock last month--a falling off of forty per cent, and we must have more or we can't take up our leases.

He's begging like a dog to come home for a week, but I can't let him.

We need that week." He limped over to the elder and put his hand on the tall man's arm as he said: "Now, Colonel, that was what I sent for you about.

You kind of speak to Molly and have her write him and tell him to hold on a little while.
It's business, you know, and we can't afford to have sentiment interfere with business." The colonel, standing by the window, replied, after a pause: "I can see where you are right, John.

Business is business.