“Really! I would give ten sous for a chair.”
All four came to a halt, standing.
“When did you see her last?” asked Bachelard.
“Yesterday, sir!” exclaimed Duveyrier.
Gueulin wagged his head. By Jove! it had not taken long, it had been neatly done. But Trublot uttered an exclamation. He had just caught sight of a dirty collar and a damaged cigar on the mantelpiece.
“Do not complain,” said he, laughing, “she has left you a keepsake. It is always something.”
Duveyrier looked at the collar with sudden emotion. Then he murmured:
“Twenty-five thousand francs’ worth of furniture, there was twenty-five thousand francs’ worth! Well! no, no, it is not that which I regret!”
“You will not have the cigar?” interrupted Trublot. “Then, allow me to. It has a hole in it, but I can stick a cigarette paper over that.”
He lighted it at the candle which the counselor was still holding, and, letting himself drop down against the wall, he added: