Saint-Potin led away his new colleague, and when they were in the passage, he said to him: "Have you seen the cashier?"
"No; why?"
"Why? To draw your money. You see you should always draw a month in advance. One never knows what may happen."
"But—I ask for nothing better."
"I will introduce you to the cashier. He will make no difficulty about it. They pay up well here."
Duroy went and drew his two hundred francs, with twenty-eight more for his article of the day before, which, added to what remained of his salary from the railway company, gave him three hundred and forty francs in his pocket. He had never owned such a sum, and thought himself possessed of wealth for an indefinite period.
Saint-Potin then took him to have a gossip in the offices of four or five rival papers, hoping that the news he was entrusted to obtain had already been gleaned by others, and that he should be able to draw it out of them—thanks to the flow and artfulness of his conversation.
When evening had come, Duroy, who had nothing more to do, thought of going again to the Folies Bergères, and putting a bold face on, he went up to the box office.
"I am George Duroy, on the staff of the Vie Francaise. I came here the other day with Monsieur Forestier, who promised me to see about my being put on the free list; I do not know whether he has thought of it."
The list was referred to. His name was not entered.