“What are we to do, Paulette? What are we to do?” she asked once they were back in their rooms.
Paulette dived down into the depths of a pocket under her petticoats and drew forth a queer little pouch the contents of which she shook out into her lap, many sous, some franc pieces, a few five franc coins, one paper note. She counted it all over laboriously. “This will serve for a time,” she said at last, “and then the deluge. At once we must find cheap lodgings, and then I shall look for employment; it should not be difficult to find this when so many men have gone. I shall succeed. Oh yes, I shall succeed.”
Lucie sat mute and distressed while Paulette made her calculations. “But, Paulette,” she broke out finally, “is it necessary to do this? My grandfather surely will appear very soon, and then there is my father’s pay. When he knows our needs, of course he will see to it that we have money.”
Paulette looked at her pityingly. “Pauvre petite, one may not look at things through such rose-colored glasses. It might happen that the affair would run smoothly, but how do we know that your father is yet well enough to attend to such matters? This in the first place, and in the second it might delay his recovery if he were given cause to worry. Again, affairs of government are not arranged in a moment. Papers must be prepared, sent to this one, that, and who knows how many months may pass before all is arranged? Meanwhile are we to sit and suck our paws like bears?”
“You know a great deal, don’t you, Paulette?” said Lucie much impressed.
“I have ears. I know what I hear,” returned Paulette. “Moreover,” she went on, “who am I that I should not work? I have always worked, even as a little child. I should be lost, desolated, without work. Am I to sit up like a lady and fold my hands at my time of life? No, no, the sooner I get to work the better.”
“But I cannot bear the idea of your working to feed me,” said Lucie.
“And who has a better right? Did I not nurse you, and have I not served your family always, always.”
“Nevertheless,” began Lucie.
“La la, if it comes to that,” interrupted Paulette, “when I am too old to work we can settle the score. That is finished. Now something else. We telephone to these people whose address you have just learned. We learn what we learn. Then at once we look for other lodgings. When we leave here we leave the new address with the old one so that any may know where to find us. That is all.” She carefully replaced the money, securely tied up the little bag and put it back in her deep pocket, then rose to carry out the plans she had made.