“But there is already a paper of that name.”
“Precisely, and that’s why I give my approval to the affair. Do you think I should be fool enough to advise you to start an entirely new paper? ‘Echo de la Bievre!’ that title is a treasure to a man who wants support for his candidacy in the 12th arrondissement. Say the word only, and I put that treasure into your hands.”
“How?” asked Thuillier, with curiosity.
“Parbleu! by buying it; it can be had for a song.”
“There now, you see,” said Thuillier in a discouraged tone; “you never counted in the cost of purchase.”
“How you dwell on nothings!” said la Peyrade, hunching his shoulders; “we have other and more important difficulties to solve.”
“Other difficulties?” echoed Thuillier.
“Parbleu!” exclaimed la Peyrade; “do you suppose that after all that has taken place between us I should boldly harness myself to your election without knowing exactly what benefit I am to get for it?”
“But,” said Thuillier, rather astonished, “I thought that friendship was a good exchange for such services.”
“Yes; but when the exchange consists in one side giving all and the other side nothing, friendship gets tired of that sort of sharing, and asks for something a little better balanced.”