“That’s bad.” I didn’t say any more. A gloom fell on my spirits.
“A letter for Monsieur,” said the concierge, as with heavy hearts and slow steps we mounted to our rooms. I handed it to Anastasia.
“Open it, Little Thing; it’s in your department.”
She did so; she gave a little scream of delight.
“Look! It’s for that article I send to New York Monitor. He geeve you cheque. Let me see.... Oh, mon Dieu! one hundred franc! good, good, now we are save!”
I took it quickly.
“One hundred francs nothing,” I said. “Young woman, you’ve got to get next to our monetary system. That’s not one hundred francs; that’s one hundred dollars—five hundred francs. Why, what’s the matter?”
For Anastasia had promptly fainted.
CHAPTER IX
AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT
I ascribed Anastasia’s fainting spell to the somewhat sketchy meals we had been having; so for the next few weeks I fed her up anxiously. That same evening we held a special meeting of the Finance Committee to consider our improved position.