"Why, we will let YOU have it for seventy, though I do think it ought to
bring five more."

"Surely you do not abate on pocket-handkerchiefs! One doesn't like to
have such a thing TOO low."

"Ah, I may as well come to the point at once with such a customer as
yourself, Miss Halfacre; here is the article on which I pride myself.
THAT article never WAS equalled in this market, and never WILL be."

I cannot repeat half the exclamations of delight which escaped the fair
Eudosia, when I first burst on her entranced eye. She turned me over
and over, examined me with palpitating bosom, and once I thought she
was about to kiss me; then, in a trembling voice, she demanded the
price.

"ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS, ma'am;" answered Bobbinet,
solemnly. "Not a cent more, on my honor."

"No, surely!" exclaimed Eudosia, with delight instead of alarm. "Not a
HUNDRED!"

"ONE HUNDRED, Miss Eudosia, to the last cent; then we scarcely
make a living profit."

"Why, Mr. Bobbinet, this is the highest priced handkerchief that was
ever sold in New York." This was said with a sort of rapture, the fair
creature feeling all the advantage of having so good an opportunity of
purchasing so dear an article.