"We say that I owe you twenty francs per month—that two months have gone by without payment—and that, consequently, I owe you forty francs."
"You owe me vorty vrancs."
"All right, my dear Bamps—here you are!"
And I threw two napoleons on the table, taking care to let the three others in the palm of my hand be visible. My poor mother looked at me with the most profound amazement. I reassured her with a sign. The sign allayed her fears, but not her surprise. Bamps examined the two napoleons, rubbed them to make sure they were not false, and rolled them, one after the other, into his pocket.
"You do not vant any more dings?" he asked.
"No, thank you, my dear Monsieur. Besides, I am expecting to leave here for Paris in a short time."
"You will bear in mind that I have the first claim on your custom?"
"All right, my dear Bamps, for good and all! But if you mean to start at eight o'clock ...?"
"If I mean to stard—! I should just tink so!"
"Well, then, there is no time to lose."