"Well, I think I can give you four hundred francs. But see that you have a pretty dress."
* * * * *
The day of the ball drew near, and Madame Loisel seemed sad, restless, anxious. Her dress was ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:
"What is the matter? Come, now, you've been looking queer these last three days."
And she replied:
"It worries me that I have no jewels, not a single stone, nothing to put on. I shall look wretched enough. I would almost rather not go to this party."
He answered:
"You might wear natural flowers. They are very fashionable this season.
For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses."
She was not convinced.
"No; there is nothing more humiliating than to look poor among a lot of rich women."