Verminet stared at him.
“Who have I the honor of speaking to?” asked he, instead of making a direct reply.
“I am a friend of M. de Gandelu’s,” returned Andre, thinking it best not to give any name.
“A confidential friend?”
“Entirely so. He had, I think, ten thousand francs from you.”
“Pardon me, five thousand.”
Andre turned toward his companion in some surprise.
Gaston grew crimson.
“What is the meaning of this?” asked the artist.
“Can’t you see?” whispered Gaston. “I had ten because I wanted the other five for Zora.”