"Oh!"
"And this is——"
"Bad too, monsieur," she laughingly interrupted. "When any one offers me fifty francs for that thing, Monsieur Jean, it goes!"
"Then it is mine," said Jean.
"No! You joke, monsieur," she protested, turning away.
"Not at all," said he, tendering her a fresh, crisp billet de banque for fifty francs. "Voilà! Is that a joke?"
Mlle. Fouchette colored slightly and drew back.
"Monsieur likes the picture?"
"Why, certainly. If I didn't——"
"Then it is yours, monsieur, if you will deign to accept it as a—present——"