The young fellow shrugged his shoulders, and with a comical grin turned his pockets inside out.
"What!" la Mère Corniche shrieked in her astonishment. "You swindler! You have taken an apartment at thirty francs a month without a sou in your pocket."
"At present."
"Get off, you, who'd rob a poor old woman."
"We'll renounce the apartment, then," he cried, with a laugh. "One room, citoyenne; give me one room if you are a patriot."
"Patriot—robber! Be off or I'll denounce you!"
The young fellow, seeing his case hopeless, prepared to depart.
"Good-by, then, mother," he said. "And thanks for your patriotic reception. Only direct me to the house of Marat and I'm done with you."
"What have you to do with the Citoyen Marat?" cried the old woman, startled into speech at that name.