"And to denounce the traitors, citoyen," the concierge exclaimed fiercely, "even were they your father and mother."
"Even that—if I had a family," he added cautiously. "And now, citoyenne, what can you do for me?"
With this direct question, the fanatic light in her face died away. The little woman withdrew a step and ran her eyes over the prospective tenant. She made him repeat the question, and finally said, with a sigh, as though regretting the price she had fixed in her mind, "How long?"
"A year—two years—indefinitely."
"There are two rooms and a parlor on the second," she began tentatively.
"That suits me."
"The price will be for you—" la Mère Corniche hastened to increase the sum, "thirty francs a month."
"Good."
"Payable in advance."