“You hesitate?” he cried indignantly. “You’re afraid to take your poor, little lives in your hands even for a few weeks?” He pushed back his chair and rose and swept a banning gesture, “I have nothing more to do with you. For profitless advice my conscience allows me to charge nothing.” He tore open his frock coat and his fingers diving into his waistcoat pocket brought forth and threw down the two five-franc pieces. “Go your ways,” said he.
At this dramatic moment both the young people sprang protesting to their feet.
“What are you talking about? We’re going to Brantôme,” cried Corinna, gripping the lapels of his coat.
“Of course we are,” exclaimed Martin, scared at the prospect of losing the inspired counsellor.
“Then why aren’t you more enthusiastic?” asked Fortinbras.
“But we are enthusiastic,” Corinna declared.
“We’ll start to-morrow,” said Martin.
“At six o’clock in the morning,” said Corinna.
“At five, if you like,” said Martin.
Fortinbras embraced them both in a capacious smile, as he deliberately repocketed the coins.