"Come, husband."
But he, struggling with himself, and still refusing, cut her short.
"No, no, he's only making fools of us. Will you hold your tongue, you brute? Is there any sense in howling like that? The neighbours will come in. You're making us ill."
This only made the sot increase his clamour, as he bellowed out:
"I haven't told you. But the lawyer is coming to-morrow to put in an execution for a bill I gave Lambourdieu. I'm a swine; I disgrace you; I must put an end to it. Pig that I am, and I deserve to be soused in the Aigre for good. If I only had thirty francs!"
Fouan, tried beyond endurance, and overcome by the scene, started at the mention of thirty francs. He removed the plate. What good was it, when the scamp saw the money and counted it through the china?
"You want the whole. In God's name, is that reasonable? Look here! You're driving us distracted. Take half, and go; and don't let us see you again."
Hyacinthe, suddenly cured, apparently took counsel with himself. Then he declared:
"No, fifteen francs is too little; it would be of no use. Call it twenty, and I'll leave you."