"I painted a sad picture. He was most sympathetic."
"To what extent?"
"Chere maman! One would think we were vulgar adventuresses. We are not. He respects me, this dear young man, and it is right that he should. I deserve to be respected. You know the fable about the dog who dropped his meat in the water, trying to snap at its reflection? Well, I don't ask strangers for loans. I make my impression. Monsieur Hugh Egerton is my friend—at present. Later, he will be what I choose. And most certainly I shall choose him for a husband. What luck, meeting him again! It is time I settled down."
"They said at Ritz's that he was one of the young millionaires, well known already in America," the fat woman reflected aloud. "It is a good thing that I have brought you up well, Julie, and that you are pretty."
"Yes, it is a good thing that I am pretty," repeated the girl. "We have had many hopes often before, but this seems to be the most promising. I think it is very promising indeed, and I don't mean to let it slip."
She turned her back to the easy chair, and opened the pink bag. As the woman talked on, she secretly counted out the money. There were more than ten thousand francs in mille notes and others of smaller denominations. Quietly she put them away in the top of a travelling box, which she locked. Then she noticed the letter which the child had given her, still lying on the dressing table, with her gloves.
"Here's something from la belle Americaine, upstairs," said she. "A billet doux."
"A dun," exclaimed the woman.
"No doubt. It can be nothing else."
"Well, we can't pay."