—I have nothing more, said Ridoux, I have nothing more; go and work, you set of idlers.
—Poor things, murmured the player; no doubt, among the number there are some who cannot work.
—There, said Ridoux, is where the old order of things is ever to be lamented. Formerly there were convents which fed all the beggars, while now these starving creatures will soon eat us all up. Ah, it makes the heart bleed to see such misery.
And he took a pinch of snuff.
A poor woman, pale and sickly, with a child on her arm, kept timidly behind the greedy crowd. Zulma perceived her, and made her a sign. Then, taking a pie out of her hat-box, she cut it into two and gave her one half.
—You are giving away your breakfast, said Marcel.
—Yes, sir, it is a present from the kind Sisters. I should have eaten it yesterday, but I preferred to keep it for to-day; you see I have done a good action, she added laughing.
—I see that the Sisters were very kind to you.
—Yes, sir, they have converted me, they made me confess and take the
Communion, which I had not done for a long time.
—That is well, said Ridoux.