The other looked carefully around, and, seeing only two players absorbed in their game,
“Because,” he replied, “M. Vincent is completely ruined, it seems. He spent all his money, and a good deal of other people’s money besides. Amanda, the chambermaid, told me; and I guess she knows.”
“You thought he was so rich!”
“He was. But no matter how big a bag is: if you keep taking out of it, you must get to the bottom.”
“Then he spent a great deal?”
“It’s incredible! I have been in extravagant houses; but nowhere have I ever seen money fly as it has during the five months that I have been in that house. A regular pillage! Everybody helped themselves; and what was not in the house, they could get from the tradespeople, have it charged on the bill; and it was all paid without a word.”
“Then, yes, indeed, the money must have gone pretty lively,” said the old one in a convinced tone.
“Well,” replied the other, “that was nothing yet. Amanda the chambermaid who has been in the house fifteen years, told us some stories that would make you jump. She was not much for spending, Zelie; but some of the others, it seems . . .”
It required the greatest effort on the part of Maxence and M. de Tregars not to play, but only to pretend to play, and to continue to count imaginary points,—“One, two, three, four.”
Fortunately the coachman with the red nose seemed much interested.