"Yes," repeated Dolores, waving her little hand at Buttons.
Something menacing appeared in the attitude and tone of Dolores. Had she changed? Had she joined the enemy? What did all this mean?
"What did you say you would ask for this room when I came here?" Buttons at length asked.
"I don't recollect naming any price," said the landlord, evasively.
"I recollect," said Dolores, decidedly. "He didn't name any price at all."
"Good Heavens!" cried Buttons, aghast, and totally unprepared for this on the part of Dolores, though nothing on the part of the landlord could have astonished him. In the brief space of three weeks that worthy had been in the habit of telling him on an average about four hundred and seventy-seven downright lies per day.
"You told me," said Buttons, with admirable calmness, "that it would be two piastres a week."
"Two piastres! Two for both of you! Impossible! You might as well say I was insane."
"Two piastres!" echoed Dolores, in indignant tones--"only think! And for this magnificent apartment! the best in the house--elegantly furnished, and two gentlemen! Why, what is this that he means?"
"Et tu Brute!" sighed Buttons.