“He may tell her what he likes so long as he pays me.”
“You have condemned them to die of hunger. How much do they owe you?”
“Fifty francs.”
“Aren’t you ashamed of making such a row for a wretched sum like that?”
“Sir, I am only ashamed of an ill deed, and I do not commit such a deed in asking for my own.”
“There’s your money. Go and tell them that you have been paid, and that they may eat again; but don’t say who gave you the money.”
“That’s what I call a good action,” said the fellow; and he went and told them that they did not owe him anything, but that they would never know who paid the money.
“You may dine and sup,” he added, “at the public table, but you must pay me day by day.”
After he had delivered this speech in a high voice, so that I could hear as well as if I had been in the room, he came back to me.
“You stupid fool!” said I, pushing him away, “they will know everything.” So saying I shut my door.