“The long and short of it is, this costs one hundred francs, whereas the other would have cost three hundred.”
And, seeing him turn pale, she added, so as to soften her words: “You are very kind all the same, and I am much obliged to you. It is not the value which makes the present, when one’s intention is good.”
She sat down again, and a pause ensued. She was still quite upset by her silly fright on the stairs! And she returned to her misgivings with respect to Rachel, relating how she had found Auguste whispering with the maid behind the door. Yet, it would have been so easy to have bought the girl over by giving her a five franc piece from time to time. But to do this, it was necessary to have some five franc pieces; she never had one, she had nothing. Her voice became harsh, the llama shawl, which she no longer alluded to, was working her up to such a pitch of rancor and despair, that she ended by picking the quarrel with her lover which had already existed so long between her and her husband.
“Come, now, is it a life worth living? never a sou, always at any one’s mercy for the least thing! Oh! I’ve had enough of it, I’ve had enough of it!”
Octave, who was pacing the room, stopped short to ask her:
“But why do you tell me all this?”
“Eh? sir, why? But there are things which delicacy alone ought to tell you, without my being made to blush by having to discuss such matters with you. Ought you not, long ere now, and without having to be told, to have made me easy by bringing this girl to our feet?”
She paused, then she added, in a tone of disdainful irony:
“It would not have ruined you.”
There was another silence. The young man, who was again pacing the room, at length replied: