She insisted on walking home, under the pretense that the moon was beautiful and went into ecstasies over it. It was a cold, still night at the beginning of winter. Pedestrians and horses went by quickly, spurred by a sharp frost. Heels rang on the pavement. As she left him she said: "Shall we meet again the day after to-morrow?"
"Certainly."
"At the same time?"
"The same time."
"Good-bye, dearest." And they kissed lovingly.
Then he walked home swiftly, asking himself what plan he could hit on the morrow to get out of his difficulty. But as he opened the door of his room, and fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for a match, he was stupefied to find a coin under his fingers. As soon as he had a light he hastened to examine it. It was a louis. He thought he must be mad. He turned it over and over, seeking by what miracle it could have found its way there. It could not, however, have fallen from heaven into his pocket.
Then all at once he guessed, and an angry indignation awoke within him. His mistress had spoken of money slipping into the lining, and being found in times of poverty. It was she who had tendered him this alms. How shameful! He swore: "Ah! I'll talk to her the day after to-morrow. She shall have a nice time over it."
And he went to bed, his heart filled with anger and humiliation.
He woke late. He was hungry. He tried to go to sleep again, in order not to get up till two o'clock, and then said to himself: "That will not forward matters. I must end by finding some money." Then he went out, hoping that an idea might occur to him in the street. It did not; but at every restaurant he passed a longing to eat made his mouth water. As by noon he had failed to hit on any plan, he suddenly made up his mind: "I will lunch out of Clotilde's twenty francs. That won't hinder me from paying them back to-morrow."
He, therefore, lunched for two francs fifty centimes. On reaching the office he also gave three francs to the messenger, saying: "Here, Foucart, here is the money you lent me last night for my cab."