"Are—are you willing to send her some money?" inquired the senior partner. Floriot sprang up, his face flushed.
"By all means!" he cried, his hand darting into his coat pocket. "Will you see that she gets it? Immediately?"
"Without a moment's delay!" M. Perissard assured him, heartily. Floriot bowed his head as he worked with the leather tongue of his pocket-book, and when he looked up his eyes were misty with tears.
"Gentlemen," he said, brokenly, "you must excuse my emotion—when I think that—she—is without a penny——! Here are 300 francs—all I have with me. Send it to her at once and——"
"She shall receive the money to-day!" M. Perissard broke in. "Allow me to give you a receipt. And when can I see you again, M. the President? Will the day after to-morrow suit you?"
"Can you have an answer by then?"
"I hope so!"
"I'll expect you in the morning then." He smiled almost joyously and held out his hands to the visitors. "We can go and see her together! I need not ask you to be discreet, need I? Nobody must know!" he added anxiously. M. Perissard drew himself up haughtily.
"M. the President!" he said stiffly, "I have not the honor of being known to you, but remember these words: Whatever may happen, we are engaged by our word of honor to remain silent—my partner, you and I!"
"Silent as the tomb!" echoed M. Merivel.