“You spoke of thirty thousand francs—to whom did you give them?”
“To dat hussy, your maid——”
The Englishwoman called Europe, who was not far off.
“Oh!” shrieked Europe, “a man in madame’s room, and he is not monsieur—how shocking!”
“Did he give you thirty thousand francs to let him in?”
“No, madame, for we are not worth it, the pair of us.”
And Europe set to screaming “Thief” so determinedly, that the banker made for the door in a fright, and Europe, tripping him up, rolled him down the stairs.
“Old wretch!” cried she, “you would tell tales to my mistress! Thief! thief! stop thief!”
The enamored Baron, in despair, succeeded in getting unhurt to his carriage, which he had left on the boulevard; but he was now at his wits’ end as to whom to apply to.
“And pray, madame, did you think to get my earnings out of me?” said Europe, coming back like a fury to the lady’s room.