"Six piastres," said Buttons.
"Impossible!"
"When I came here I took good care to have it understood. You distinctly said two piastres per week. You may find it very convenient to forget. I find it equally convenient to remember."
"Try--try hard, and perhaps you will remember that we offered to take nothing. Oh yes, nothing--absolutely nothing. Couldn't think of it," said Dolores, with a multitude of ridiculous but extremely pretty gestures, that made the little witch charming even in her rascality.--"Oh yes, nothing"--a shrug of the shoulders --"we felt so honored"--spreading out her hands and bowing.--"A great American!--a noble foreigner!"--folding her arms, and strutting up and down.--"Too much happiness!"--here her voice assumed a tone of most absurd sarcasm.--"We wanted to entertain them all the rest of our lives for nothing"--a ridiculous grimace--"or perhaps your sweet conversation has been sufficient pay--ha?" and she pointed her little rosy taper finger at Buttons as though she would transfix him.
Buttons sighed. "Dolores!" said he, "I always thought _you_ were my friend. I didn't think that you would turn against me."
"Ah, infamous one! and foolish too! Did you think that I could ever help you to cheat my poor parents? Was this the reason why you sought me? Dishonest one! I am only an innocent girl, but I can understand your villainy."
"I think you understand a great many things," said Buttons, mournfully.
"And to think that one would seek my friendship to save his money!"
Buttons turned away. "Suppose I stayed here three weeks longer, how much would you charge?" he asked the landlord.
That worthy opened his eyes. His face brightened.