address of your cabinet-maker; I shall have to arrange with him about
the choice of colors, so as to have everything in keeping."

"Monsieur Braschon, Rue Saint-Antoine, takes my orders," said
Birotteau, assuming a ducal air.

The architect wrote down the address in one of those pretty note-books
which invariably come from women.

"Well," said Birotteau, "I trust to you, monsieur; only you must wait
till the lease of the adjoining house is made over to me, and I will
get permission to cut through the wall."

"Send me a note this evening," said the architect; "it will take me
all night to draw the plans--we would rather work for a bourgeois than
for the King of Prussia, that is to say for ourselves. I will now take
the dimensions, the pitch, the size of the widows, the pictures--"

"It must be finished on the appointed day," said Birotteau. "If not,
no pay."

"It shall be done," said the architect. "The workmen must do without
sleep; we will use drying oil in the paint. But don't let yourself be
taken in by the contractors; always ask their price in advance, and
have a written agreement."

"Paris is the only place in the world where you can wave a magic wand
like that," said Birotteau, with an Asiatic gesture worthy of the
Arabian Nights. "You will do me the honor to come to my ball,
monsieur? Men of talent are not all disdainful of commerce; and you