ions."

"Bacchus!" ejaculated Marzio. "You are not in a hurry about the matter.
Well, we can always talk, and I will not keep you."

"We might walk together, and say what we have to say."

"I am going to the Capitol," Marzio said, for he had been walking in
that direction when they met.

"That is my way, too," answered the lawyer, forgetting that he had run
into Marzio as he came down the street.

"Eh! That is lucky," remarked the artist with an almost imperceptible
smile. "As I was saying," he continued, "five thousand francs is not the
National Bank, but it is a very pretty little sum, especially when there
is something more to be expected in the future."

"That depends on the future. But I do not call it a sum. Nothing under
twenty thousand is a sum, properly speaking."

"Who has twenty thousand francs?" laughed Marzio, shrugging his
shoulders with an incredulous look.

"You talk as though Rome were an asylum for paupers," returned
Carnesecchi. "Who has twenty thousand francs? Why, everybody has. You
have, I have. One must be a beggar not to have that much. After all, we
are talking about business, Sor Marzio. Why should I not say it? I have
always said that I would not marry with less than that for a dowry. Why
should one throw away one's opportunities? To please some one? It is not
my business to try and please everybody. One must be just."

"Of course. What? Am I not just? But if justice were done, where would
some people be? I say it, too. If you marry my daughter, you will expect
a dowry. Have I denied it? And then, five thousand is not so little.
There is the outfit, too; I have to pay for that."

"That is not my affair," laughed the lawyer. "That is the business of
the woman. But five thousand francs is not my affair either. Think of
the responsibilities a man incurs when he marries! Five thousand! It is
not even a cup of coffee! You are talking to a _galantuomo_, an honest
man, Sor Marzio. Reflect a little."

"I reflect--yes! I reflect that you ask a great deal of money, Signer
Carnesecchi," replied Marzio with some irritation.

"I never heard that anybody gave money unless it was asked for."

"It will not be for lack of asking if you do not get it," retorted the
artist.

"What do you mean, Signor Pandolfi?" inquired Carnesecchi, drawing
himself up to his full height and then striking his hollow chest with
his lean hand. "Do you mean that I am begging money of you? Do you mean
to insult an ho