"Well, are you going to open?" cried Robeckal, becoming impatient.
Hesitatingly Louison pushed back the bolt, and with a sigh of relief she saw Robeckal's face; no, that was not the vicomte.
"H'm, mademoiselle, you thought perhaps that I was a beggar?" asked Robeckal, mockingly.
"Please tell me quickly what you want," cried Louison, hurriedly. "I must go out, and have no time to lose."
"You might offer me a chair, anyway," growled Robeckal, looking steadily at the handsome girl.
"I told you before I am in a hurry," replied Louison, coldly; "therefore please do not delay me unnecessarily."
Robeckal saw that the best thing he could do would be to come to the point at once, and grinning maliciously, he said:
"Mademoiselle, would you like to earn some money?"
"That depends—go on."
"Let me first speak about myself. I am an extra waiter. Do you know what that is?"