"How do I know? It's not my business; but I fancy I have fallen into a snug berth, a soft job, better than making beds in a sleeping-car and being shaken to death in express trains."
"Good wages, if it's a fair question?"
"Fifty francs a week, pour tout potage."
I looked at him hard, revolving in my mind how best to approach him. L'Echelle was a Swiss, and with most of his sort it is only a question of price. How much would it take to buy him?
"Well, how have you fared? Have you succeeded in getting your rooms? Will your Colonel move up?"
"What would his lordship say? Wouldn't like it much, I expect. Shall I prevent it? It will be easy to say there are no rooms. I'll do just as you please."
"You're very obliging."
"I'm willing enough to oblige, as I've always told you—at a price."
"Put a name to it; but don't forget you've had something on account. Last night I gave you five hundred francs."