"Oh, now, just wait till to-morrow night: do. If I don't give it to you then, you shall have it double."
"Oh, yes: you can promise it double; but who's to give it to me?"
"I am."
"Will you come to me to-morrow night?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm agreed."
Florian passed on, and when Crescence asked him, "What does that wretch want of you?" he blushed like a fire-thief, and answered, "Nothing: he wanted me to sell him my knife."
"Don't let him have it: he'd murder somebody with it."
Florian shuddered; and it pained him to see the undoubting faith with which Crescence received his words.