Roncherolle had dropped his head on the pillow, and said nothing more. Chicotin handed him the two-franc piece, saying:
"Shall I buy anything else with this, bourgeois?"
"You may buy some wood, my boy, and make a fire; but not until evening; for my little neighbor comes to sit with me in the evening, and I don't want her to freeze in my room.—Now leave me, my children; I don't want anything more, and I am going to try to sleep."
Violette pressed the invalid's hand and went out, with a feeling of oppression at her heart; Chicotin followed her, muttering:
"Poor dear man, not to be able to buy what might cure him; it ain't very gay here; but never mind, I will come back soon and see if he wants something else that don't cost so much."
"And you won't spend his two francs, will you, Chicotin? you must get some wood in my room."
"Yes, mamzelle, but what shall I do with his money? I can't give it back to him."
"Keep it; it will serve to buy something else which may be dearer still; and you mustn't tell him, as you did to-day. To think of his being without a fire, in such cold weather, and when he is suffering so! for to-day I could see on his face the efforts he made to conceal his suffering; why, it makes me want to cry!"
"After all, Mamzelle Violette, you mustn't feel so bad for somebody who ain't anything to you."
"Oh! he is so wretched, without relations, or friends, sick and poor; and then there are people for whom you feel affection right away; and Georget won't be jealous of him; I feel that I have a sincere affection for him."