"Drinking ain't the way to save money to send a marriage portion to my sister Liline."
"You've told me that your sister was pretty; and when a girl's pretty, she don't need a marriage portion; and then, ain't there a lady at Clermont who takes an interest in her, and has taken her into her family and given her an education?"
"Yes, but——"
"Well, she'll find a husband for your sister, that's plain enough; so you don't need to worry about her."
"Poor Liline! I'm very fond of her; she's so pretty and gentle—as gentle as I am rough! I mean to go down into the country next spring, and see my sister and my father; and perhaps I'll stay with them, for I have nothing at all to keep me in Paris now."
Sans-Cravate sighed profoundly as he spoke, and his eyes scanned the boulevards as if he were looking for someone.
"Well, that's all right; you can go home next spring, and I'll show you out of the city; if you want, I'll wait for you at the barrier till you come back; but at the present time, if you don't take a little pleasure, you'll be as yellow and dry as parchment; you've changed already, you're losing your fine color."
"Oh! I don't care about that now! there's nobody I want to please."
"Nobody knows! nobody knows! you mustn't get careless. A man ought to be handsome all the time, as he's made to seduce; that's all I know. A comparison: it's like a horse that's never curry-combed; his coat loses all its gloss."
"It's sure enough that there's twelve francs here," said Sans-Cravate, tapping his pocket, "that I didn't count on at all."