The mare is a dead bargain.

Shouldn't wonder if I buy her, after all." "And yet you don't want her," said Dalrymple.
"Quite true; but one must have a favorite sin, and horseflesh is mine.

I shall ruin myself by it some day--_mort de ma vie!_ By the way, have you seen my chestnut in harness?
No?
Then you will be really pleased.

Goes delightfully with the gray, and manages tandem to perfection.

_Parbleu!_ I was forgetting--do we meet to-night ?" "Where ?" "At Chardonnier's." Dalrymple shook his head, and turned the key in his cash box.
"Not this evening," he replied.