It was her way to thus account for all expenditures for their joint household. He paid about as much attention as usual,—which was none at all,—his mind still dwelling on the cheerfulness and genuine comfort of the place.
"And the flowers, petite——"
"Of course," she hastily interrupted, "I pay for the flowers."
"No! no!" he explained. "I don't mean that! Is it your birthday, or——"
"Yes," she said, thoughtfully, "that is it, Monsieur Jean. I was born this morning!"
He laughed, but saw from the sparkle of the blue eyes that he had not caught her real meaning.
"From the marguerites——"
"Ah, çà! I made the marchande des fleurs give me those. Aren't they sweet? How I love the flowers!"
"But I never saw such a remarkable effect, somehow. They are only flowers, and——"
"'Only flowers'! Say, now!"