“She ain't no lady. She is better as a hundert ladies--she is joost a plain vomans who keeps a express office over dere--Cleary's Express. You don't know it? Vell, dot's your fault. Dot's her boy Bobby outside de door. He has been up vid his fadder to de Grand Central for some sideboards and sofas I been buyin'. You vant to look at 'em ven dey git unloaded. They joost ready to fall to pieces, and if I patch 'em up nobody don't buy 'em. Vot I do is to leave 'em out on de sidewalk for a veek or two and let de dirt and rain get on 'em, den somebody come along and say: 'Dot is genuine. You can see right avay how olt dot is. Dot is because de bottom is out of de sofas, and de back of de behind of de sideboard is busted. So den I get fifty dollars more for repairin' my own furniture. Ain't dot funny? And ven I send it home dey say: 'Oh, ain't dot beautiful! You ought to have seen dot ven I bought it of old Kling! You vouldn't give two dollars for it. All he did vas to scrape it down and revarnish it--and now it is joost as good as new.' Ain't dot funny? Vy, sometimes I have to holt on to my sides for fear dey vill split vid my laughter, and my two German mens dey stuff dere fingers in dere mouths so de customers can't hear. And all de backs new, and de legs made outer udder legs, and de handles I get across at de hardvare store! Oh, I tell you, it's funny! But you know all about it. Maybe you vunce keep a place yourself?” “No, never.” “VOT!” “No, I have never been in your line of trade.” “Vell, how do you know so much?” “I know very little, but I have always enjoyed such things.” “Vell, dot's more funny yet. You vould make a lot of money if you did. Ven you get someting for nudding you know it--I don't. You see dem--vot you call 'em--Spodes--and dot tureen, dot--” “Lowestoft?” suggested the stranger, adjusting the mouthpiece of his pipe. “Yes, dot Lowestoft. If you come in yesterday and say, 'Have you any olt cups and saucers and olt soup tureens?' I say: 'Yes--help yourselluf. Take your pick for tventy-five cents each for de cups and saucers.' You see, I pay nudding and I get nudding. Dot give me an idea! How vould you like to go round de store vid me and pick out de good vuns? Dot von't take you long--vait a minute--I give you dat money.” “I should not be of the slightest value, and if you are loaning me the twenty-five dollars on any other basis than the worth of the dressing-case, I would rather not take it.” “Oh, I have finished vid de loan. Vot I say I say.” He thrust his hand into a side pocket, from which he drew a flat wallet. “And dere is de money. I give you a receipt for de case.” “No, I do not want any receipt. I am quite willing you should keep it until I can either pay this back or you can loan me some more on it.”