“I understand, monsieur.”
“As for your own appartement, give me carte-blanche to arrange and decorate it. I wish to make it worthy—”
“Worthy! You have said the word, monsieur.”
“How much time do you give me to complete the work?”
“Twenty days.”
“What sum do you mean to put in the workmen’s pockets?” asked Grindot.
“How much do you think it will cost?”
“An architect can estimate on a new building almost to a farthing,” answered the young man; “but as I don’t know how to deal with a bourgeois—ah! excuse me, monsieur, the word slipped out—I must warn you that it is impossible to calculate the costs of tearing down and rebuilding. It will take at least eight days before I can give even an approximate idea of them. Trust yourself to me: you shall have a charming staircase, lighted from above, with a pretty vestibule opening from the street, and in the space under the stairway—”
“Must that be used?”
“Don’t be worried—I will find room for a little porter’s lodge. Your house shall be studied and remodelled con amore. Yes, monsieur, I look to art and not to fortune. Above all things I do not want fame before I have earned it. To my mind, the best means of winning credit is not to play into the hands of contractors, but to get at good effects cheaply.”