"No, we can't pay," said the girl, looking at the locked box.
"Let me see, how much was it she lent?"
"Two hundred francs, I think. We told her we'd give it back in a week. That's nearly a month ago."
"Serve her right for trusting strangers. The saints alone know when she'll see her money again. She shouldn't be so soft hearted. It doesn't pay in these days."
"Neither do we—when we can help it."
They both laughed.
"But when you are Madame—let me see, what was the name of the young monsieur, they told you at the Ritz?"
"Egerton."
"Ah yes. When you are Madame Egerton—"
"Everything will be very different then."