“How?”

“I will take the coat that you made me order a month ago; I am quite sure it is not worth what is due me, but it is always so.”

“Take the coat.”

Joseph took the coat from the wardrobe in the hall, and rolled it in a newspaper.

“Of course you will not expect me in the morning,” he said, as he put his key on the table.  “I must look out for another place.”

“Very well, I shall not expect you.”

“Good-evening, sir.”

And Joseph hurried away as quickly as possible.

Left alone, Saniel did not return to his work immediately, but throwing himself in an armchair he cast a melancholy glance around his office and through the open door into the parlor.  In the faint light of the candle he saw the large armchairs methodically placed each side of the chimney, the curtains at the windows lost in shadow, and all the furniture which for four years had cost him so many efforts.  He had long been the prisoner of this Louis XIV camlet, and he was now going to be executed.  A beautiful affair, truly, brilliant and able!  All this had been used only by the poor Auvergnats, without Saniel enjoying it at all, for he had neither the bourgeois taste for ornaments nor the desire for elegance.  A movement of anger and revolt against himself made him strike his desk with his fist.  What a fool he had been!

The bell rang again.  This time, not expecting a rich patient, he would not open it.  After a moment a slight tap was heard on the panel.  He rose quickly and ran to open the door.

A woman threw herself into his arms.

“O my dearest!  I am so glad to find you at home!”

CHAPTER VI

A SWEET CONSOLER

She passed her arm about him and pressed him to her, and with arms entwined they entered the study.

“How glad I am!” she said.  “What a good idea I had!”

With a quick movement she took off her long gray cloak that enveloped her from head to foot.

“And are you glad?” she asked, as she stood looking at him.

“Can you ask that?”

“Only to hear you say that you are.”

“Are you not my only joy, the sweet lamp that gives me light in the cavern where I work day and night?”

“Dear Victor!”

She was a tall, slender young woman with chestnut hair, whose thick curls clustering about her forehead almost touched her eyebrows.  Her beautiful eyes were dark, her nose short, while her superb teeth and rich, ruby-colored lips gave her the effect of a pretty doll; and she had gayety, playful vivacity, gracious effrontery, and a passionate caressing glance.  Dressed extravagantly, like the Parisian woman who has not a sou, but who adorns everything she wears, she had an ease, a freedom, a natural elegance that was charming.  With this she had the voice of a child, a joyous laugh, and an expression of sensibility on her fresh face.