"Come, never mind all that, my darling," said she to Rozan. "Big Lar has the money, you know. The affair had better be settled."
Larsonneau pretended to remember.
"Ah, yes, it's true," he said, "I have the amount—But how much better you would have done had you listened to me, my dear fellow! To think that these rogues demanded fifty per cent of me. However I agreed to it all the same, as you told me that it didn't matter."
Laure d'Aurigny had procured some bill stamps during the day. But when it was a question of a pen and an inkstand, she looked at the two men with an air of consternation, doubting whether these objects would be found in the place. She wanted to go and look in the kitchen, when Larsonneau drew from his pocket, the pocket containing the sweetmeat box, two marvels, a silver pen-holder which lengthened by means of a screw, and a steel and ebony inkstand, of jewel-like finish and delicacy. And as Rozan sat down:
"Draw the notes to my name," the agent said. "I didn't wish to compromise you, you understand? We will arrange matters together. Six notes of twenty-five thousand francs each, eh?"
Laure counted the flimsies on a corner of the table. Rozan did not even see them. When he had signed and raised his head, they had already disappeared in the young woman's pocket. However she came to him and kissed him on both cheeks, which appeared to delight him. Larsonneau looked at them philosophically while folding the promissory notes, and replacing the inkstand and pen-holder in his pocket.
The young woman still had her arms round Rozan's neck, when Aristide Saccard raised a corner of the door-hanging.
"Well, don't disturb yourselves," he said, laughing.
The duke blushed. But Laure went to shake the financier's hand, exchanging a wink of intelligence with him. She was radiant.
"It's done, my dear," said she. "I warned you of it. You are not too angry with me?"