and a special knowledge of Parisian capitalists, their origin,
connections, acquaintances, and intrinsic value. This partnership of
two 'dabblers' (let the Stock Exchange term pass, for it is the only
word which describes them), this partnership of dabblers did not last
very long. They fought like famished curs over every bit of garbage.

"The earlier speculations of the firm of Cerizet and Claparon were,
however, well planned. The two scamps joined forces with Barbet,
Chaboisseau, Samanon, and usurers of that stamp, and bought up
hopelessly bad debts.

"Claparon's place of business at that time was a cramped entresol in
the Rue Chabannais--five rooms at a rent of seven hundred francs at
most. Each partner slept in a little closet, so carefully closed from
prudence, that my head-clerk could never get inside. The furniture of
the other three rooms--an ante-chamber, a waiting-room, and a private
office--would not have fetched three hundred francs altogether at a
distress-warrant sale. You know enough of Paris to know the look of
it; the stuffed horsehair-covered chairs, a table covered with a green
cloth, a trumpery clock between a couple of candle sconces, growing
tarnished under glass shades, the small gilt-framed mirror over the
chimney-piece, and in the grate a charred stick or two of firewood
which had lasted them for two winters, as my head-clerk put it. As for
the office, you can guess what it was like--more letter-files than
business letters, a set of common pigeon-holes for either partner, a
cylinder desk, empty as the cash-box, in the middle of the room, and a
couple of armchairs on either side of a coal fire. The carpet on the
floor was bought cheap at second-hand (like the bills and bad debts).
In short, it was the mahogany furniture of furnished apartments which
usually descends from one occupant of chambers to another during fifty