At seven o'clock he had not yet hit upon anything and a terrible hunger assailed him. Then he had recourse to the stratagem of a despairing man. He let all his colleagues depart, one after the other, and when he was alone rang sharply. Monsieur Walter's messenger, left in charge of the offices, came in. Duroy was standing feeling in his pockets, and said in an abrupt voice: "Foucart, I have left my purse at home, and I have to go and dine at the Luxembourg. Lend me fifty sous for my cab."
The man took three francs from his waistcoat pocket and said: "Do you want any more, sir?"
"No, no, that will be enough. Thanks."
And having seized on the coins, Duroy ran downstairs and dined at a slap-bank, to which he drifted on his days of poverty.
At nine o'clock he was awaiting his mistress, with his feet on the fender, in the little sitting-room. She came in, lively and animated, brisked up by the keen air of the street. "If you like," said she, "we will first go for a stroll, and then come home here at eleven. The weather is splendid for walking."
He replied, in a grumbling tone: "Why go out? We are very comfortable here."
She said, without taking off her bonnet: "If you knew, the moonlight is beautiful. It is splendid walking about to-night."
"Perhaps so, but I do not care for walking about!"
He had said this in an angry fashion. She was struck and hurt by it, and asked: "What is the matter with you? Why do you go on in this way? I should like to go for a stroll, and I don't see how that can vex you."
He got up in a rage. "It does not vex me. It is a bother, that is all."