Queer, I tell you, Isaac--extraordinary, that's what it is--almost uncanny." The Jew threw away his cigar, rested his short elbows on the arms of his chair, and made a basket of his hands, the tips of all his fingers touching.
"No, you are wrong, my good friend.

It is not extraordinary and it is not uncanny.

It is very simple--exceedingly simple.

Nobody runs over a child if he can help it.

Even a thief will bring you back your pocket-book if you trust him to take care of it.