"'Buy the secret, then.'
"'That's what I want to do. A mere trifle prevents me—I haven't any money; but I thought of you. You told me, you know, that it would make you unhappy if I didn't always think of you.'
"'When it's a matter of love, that is true.'
"'I think of you for everything. My little Loquet, you must lend me the fifteen thousand francs.'
"'I should be delighted to oblige you, my sweet love; but there's a trifle that prevents me too: I have no money.'
"'Oh! nonsense!'
"'Five or six hundred francs, at your service, but no more. I am just beginning the practice of medicine, you understand; I have a large number of patients already: almost all the lorettes in the Bréda quarter have me to attend them, and they often have trifling indispositions; but not one of them ever pays me, that isn't their custom. As for my parents, who live in La Beauce, they have got tired of sending me money. They claim that I ought to have acquired talent enough to earn my living. Parbleu! talent isn't what I lack, but paying patients.'
"My brunette stamped impatiently, crying:
"'I mean to make my fortune, I tell you, and I can do it by selling seamless gloves. Look you, my little Loquet, you can give me your notes of hand; I can negotiate them; the owner of the process will take them in payment.'
"'But how am I to pay them?'