"But, now I think of it, what are you to do? Your work will suffer from your visits to the prison."
"Oh, no, no; I have made my calculations. In the first place, I have my Sundays to myself, so I shall go and see Louise and Germain on those days; that will serve me for a walk and a change. Then, in the week, I shall go again to the prison once or twice. Each time will occupy me three good hours, won't it? Well, to manage this comfortably, I shall work an hour more every day, and go to bed at twelve o'clock instead of eleven o'clock; that will be a clear gain of seven or eight hours a week, which I can employ in going to see Louise and Germain. You see I am richer than I appear," added Rigolette, with a smile.
"And you have no fear that you will be overfatigued?"
"Bah! Not at all; I shall manage it. And, besides, it can't last for ever."
"Here is your shawl, neighbour."
"Fasten it; and mind you don't prick me."
"Ah, the pin is bent."
"Well, then, clumsy, take another then,—from the pincushion. Ah, I forgot! Will you do me a great favour, neighbour?"
"Command me, neighbour."
"Mend me a good pen, with a broad nib, so that when I return I may write to poor Germain, and tell him I have executed all his commissions. He will have my letter to-morrow morning in the prison, and that will give him pleasure."