Like a generous man, who despises considerations of money, Monsieur interrupted the old man, who was getting ready to justify himself by explanations.
"It is all right, father Pantois. It is agreed. Do I ever haggle with you? In fact, instead of twenty-two francs, I will pay you twenty-five for your sweet-briers."
"Ah! Monsieur Lanlaire, you are too good!"
"No, no; I am just. I am for the people, I am; for labor, don't you know?"
And, with a blow on the table, he went higher still.
"No, not twenty-five,—thirty, father Pantois. I will pay you thirty francs, do you hear that?"
The good man lifted his poor eyes to Monsieur, in astonishment and gratitude, and stammered:
"I hear very well. It is a pleasure to work for you, Monsieur Lanlaire. You know what work is, you do."
Monsieur put an end to these effusions.
"And I will go to pay you,—let us see; to-day is Tuesday,—I will go to pay you on Sunday. Does that suit you? And at the same time I will take my gun. Is it agreed?"