“Have you been buying furniture, lieutenant?”
“Not for myself, for Virginie.”
Bertrand turned away, biting his lips, and struck himself repeated blows on the forehead to keep himself from speaking out and venting his wrath. Auguste, observing his cashier’s ill humor, continued with a smile:
“Come, don’t get excited, Bertrand! really, you are getting to be so severe!”
“I, monsieur! I haven’t said a word!”
“Deuce take it! I am rich; do you expect me to deny myself all pleasure?”
“I don’t expect anything at all, monsieur.”
“Ought a man in my position to lead the life of a petty tradesman with an income of twelve hundred francs?”
“We spent forty thousand francs last year, and your income only amounts to fifteen thousand; if we go on that way, we’re perfectly certain to be left as naked as little St. John.”
“No; I shall succeed in keeping a better proportion between my expenses and my income this year. But this bill is a mere trifle. Poor Virginie! she’s so amusing!”