“You had better take it home again, my child; a person can never have too much of it,” Virginie replied, while Schtrack, still holding the bag, repeated:
“Count ‘em, mamzelle, if you blease.”
“Don’t you see that she don’t want to count it, you pig-headed old fool?” said Virginie. “We all know that the Dutchman is honest.”
“Never mind, count just the same, mamzelle, if you blease.”
Virginie decided to count the money, because Schtrack would not otherwise have left them in peace. Meanwhile Denise said to the concierge:
“Did Monsieur Auguste look very sad when he went away, monsieur?”
“Sad? no, mamzelle, he was fery glad to go, judging from what he said.”
“I’ll bet he’s gone to pick up a legacy,” said Virginie, “and that’s why he went off so sudden. Didn’t he tell you so, Dutchman?”
“No, he haf not said anything of a legacy, but he sold[F] all his furniture.”
[F] Schtrack is supposed to pronounce the word vendu—sold—like fendu—split or broken;—hence the misunderstanding.