“Tell me if Ami has broken anything here?”
“No, monsieur, no; he just frightened us, and he disarranged my wig—that’s all.”
Meanwhile Madame Jarnouillard was making innumerable signs to her husband, and calling to him:
“To the right—that’s all wrong! turn it to the right! it’s on crooked!”
But the implacable creditor, engrossed by the sale, paid no heed to his wife’s signs. He was about to put up an old walnut commode, the peasant’s most valuable piece of furniture, when Paul caught him by the arm, saying:
“One moment, monsieur! You are selling out this poor family’s house and furniture, I believe? The grief of the poor mother sitting over yonder, with her four children about her, does not touch you!”
“Monsieur, business is—business! they are in debt to me, I need my money——”
“Enough, monsieur! How much does your claim amount to?”
“Nearly nine hundred francs; it will amount to a thousand with the costs.”
“Very good; offer the house for sale at once.”