Part 152 (1/2)
”This rind is too large for me. Never mind,” he added, ”he did a devilish good thing in leaving it for me, the old scoundrel! If it hadn't been for that, I couldn't have gone out, and everything would have gone wrong! What small points things hang on, anyway!”
And pulling his cap down over his eyes, he quitted the room.
He had barely had time to take half a dozen steps from the door, when the door opened again, and his savage but intelligent face made its appearance once more in the opening.
”I came near forgetting,” said he. ”You are to have a brazier of charcoal ready.”
And he flung into his wife's ap.r.o.n the five-franc piece which the ”philanthropist” had left with him.
”A brazier of charcoal?” asked his wife.
”Yes.”
”How many bushels?”
”Two good ones.”
”That will come to thirty sous. With the rest I will buy something for dinner.”
”The devil, no.”
”Why?”
”Don't go and spend the hundred-sou piece.”
”Why?”
”Because I shall have to buy something, too.”
”What?”
”Something.”
”How much shall you need?”
”Whereabouts in the neighborhood is there an ironmonger's shop?”
”Rue Mouffetard.”
”Ah! yes, at the corner of a street; I can see the shop.”
”But tell me how much you will need for what you have to purchase?”
”Fifty sous--three francs.”
”There won't be much left for dinner.”
”Eating is not the point to-day. There's something better to be done.”