“Bah,” said Caderousse, “when you have access to countless stores.”
One would have said Andrea anticipated his companion’s words, so did his eye flash like lightning, but it was but for a moment.
“True,” he replied, “and my protector is very kind.”
“That dear protector,” said Caderousse; “and how much does he give you monthly?”
“Five thousand francs.”
“As many thousands as you give me hundreds! Truly, it is only bastards who are thus fortunate. Five thousand francs per month! What the devil can you do with all that?”
“Oh, it is no trouble to spend that; and I am like you, I want capital.”
“Capital?—yes—I understand—everyone would like capital.”
“Well, and I shall get it.”
“Who will give it to you—your prince?”