This resolution gave her courage to go up to a policeman, and, crimson like a poppy, to ask him,—
“Will you be so kind, sir, as to tell me a pawnbroker’s shop?”
The man looked with pity at the young girl, whose whole person exhaled a perfume of distinction and of candor, asking himself, perhaps, what terrible misfortune could have reduced a lady like her to such a step; then he answered with a sigh,—
“There, madam, at the corner of the first street on the right, you will find a loan office.”
“Loan office?” These words suggested to Henrietta no clear idea. But it mattered not. She went on in feverish haste, recognized the house that had been pointed out to her, went up stairs, and, pushing open a door, found herself in a large room, where some twenty people were standing about, waiting.
On the right hand three or four clerks, shut off from the public by a railing breast-high, were writing down the names of the depositors, and counting out money. Far back, a large opening was visible, where another clerk appeared from time to time, to take in the articles that were pawned. After waiting for five minutes, and without asking a question from anybody, Henrietta understood the whole process. Trembling as if she had committed a crime, she went to the opening behind, and put upon the ledge one of her rings, the most valuable of the two. Then she waited, not daring to look up; for it seemed to her as if all eyes were upon her.
“One diamond ring!” cried the clerk. “Nine hundred francs. Whose is it?”
The large amount caused all to look around; and a big woman, but too well dressed, and with a very impudent expression, said,—
“Oh, oh! The damsel dresses well!”
Crimson with shame, Henrietta had stepped up. She whispered,—