The young girl waited for some moments in silence, appearing to reflect deeply; while Chaudoreille fingered his purse, very anxious as to her answer, and saying to himself,—
"In any case, I shall not give them back the ten crowns.
"Tomorrow evening at eight o'clock, on the Pont de la Tournelle," said the young Italian at last; for Julia, in fact, was not French.
"'Tis enough," responded Chaudoreille, continuing to hold himself in such a manner as to show only his profile; "I have nothing more to ask of you; let us part, for fear the sight of me make you change your resolution."
The messenger already had hold of the knob of the door when Julia recalled him.
"You have forgotten to pay for your ribbon, monsieur."
"By Jove! that's true. What the devil has got me? I'm as stupid as possible."
While saying this Chaudoreille drew forth his purse, rattling the ten crowns that it held as loudly as possible, counting and recounting them several times in his hand.
"I don't know if I have any change about me," said he. "Ordinarily I carry nothing but gold, it is so much lighter. How much is it, beautiful merchant?"
"Thirty sous, monsieur."