“Did he seem put out?”
“No.”
“Poor man!”
This “Poor man!” was said in a tone impossible to render. Marguerite took the six notes of a thousand francs.
“It was quite time,” she said. “My dear Prudence, are you in want of any money?”
“You know, my child, it is the 15th in a couple of days, so if you could lend me three or four hundred francs, you would do me a real service.”
“Send over to-morrow; it is too late to get change now.”
“Don’t forget.”
“No fear. Will you have supper with us?”
“No, Charles is waiting for me.”