"That is a good deal," I said hesitatingly. "Haven't you a cheaper room, Madame Jourdain?"
"This is the only one we have now vacant, monsieur," she assured me.
I turned back toward the door with a little sigh.
"I fear I can't take it," I said.
"Monsieur does not understand," she protested. "That price, of course, includes breakfast."
"And dinner?"
She hesitated, eying me again.
"For one dollar additional it shall include dinner."
"Done, madame!" I cried. "I pay you for a week in advance," and I suited the action to the word. "Only," I added, "be sure to air the room well to-morrow—it seems very close. Still, Bethune was right to make sure that his sister could not harm herself."
"Yes," she nodded, placing the money carefully in an old purse, with the true miserly light in her eyes. "Yes—she broke down most sudden—it was the departure of her mother, you know, monsieur."