I could have flung him into the river, money-bag and all. But Madame la Vicomtesse made him a courtesy there on the levee bank, and said sweetly:—
“That is very good of you, Auguste.”
“As for you, Monsieur,” he said, and now his voice shook with uncontrolled rage, “I am in no condition to repay your kindnesses. But I have no doubt that you will not object to keeping the miniature a while longer.”
I was speechless with anger and shame, and though I felt the eyes of the Vicomtesse upon me, I dared not look at her. I heard Auguste but indistinctly as he continued:—
“Should you need the frame, Monsieur, you will doubtless find it still with Monsieur Isadore, the Jew, in the Rue Toulouse.” With that he leaped into his boat, seized the paddle, and laughed as he headed into the current. How long I stood watching him as he drifted lazily in the sun I know not, but at length the voice of Madame la Vicomtesse aroused me.
“He is a pleasant person,” she said.