“I will follow your advice, monsieur.”
“I was sure you would, my dear friend. Let us reflect upon the course you should pursue. And remember that you will need every cent of the proceeds of the sale. Have you any ready money? no, but you must have some. Knowing that you would need it at once, I brought an upholsterer here; and he will give twelve thousand francs for everything excepting the pictures.”
The cashier could not refrain from shrugging his shoulders, which M. Verduret observed.
“Well,” said he, “it is rather hard, I admit, but it is a necessity. Now listen: you are the invalid, and I am the doctor charged to cure you; if I cut to the quick, you will have to endure it. It is the only way to save you.”
“Cut away then, monsieur,” answered Prosper.
“Well, we will hurry, for time passes. You have a friend, M. de Lagors?”
“Raoul? Yes, monsieur, he is an intimate friend.”
“Now tell me, who is this fellow?”
The term “fellow” seemed to offend Prosper.
“M. de Lagors, monsieur,” he said, haughtily, “is M. Fauvel’s nephew; he is a wealthy young man, handsome, intelligent, cultivated, and the best friend I have.”