"Monsieur has bought my picture," said Mademoiselle Noemie. "When it's finished you'll carry it to him in a cab." "A little, my daughter, a little?" said M. Nioche perplexed. "How much?" "Two thousand " said Mademoiselle Noemie. "Don't make a fuss or he'll take back his word." "Two thousand " cried the old man, and he began to fumble for his snuff-box. He looked at Newman from head to foot; he looked at his daughter and then at the picture. "Take care you don't spoil it " he cried almost sublimely.
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