“You’re a fool! You don’t know how to manage an affair. And what about that house that someone wanted to buy?” “Monsieur, the person came three times to obtain information, but he didn’t find you.” “You ought to have given it to him!” “But, monsieur, I knew nothing about it.” “And that investment that someone wanted to make?” “The person made two appointments with you that you didn’t keep.” “For heaven’s sake, do these people think that I am at their orders?” “They say that you should be prompt.” “Hold your tongue! You are an insolent fellow! I have no need of a fellow who sleeps on my desk. I discharge you.” “Monsieur will please pay me my wages first.” “Your wages! You earn them by sleeping.” “Monsieur, it isn’t my fault that there isn’t anything to do in your office; pay me and----” “I’ll pay you; leave me.” Edouard was well aware that he had nothing with which to pay his clerk; he opened the desk, examined all the drawers, and found nothing. He relied upon the sum which Dufresne still had in his hands, and determined to see him and urge him to sell at once at any price; he absolutely must have money. Fatigued and discomfited by his sitting at the gaming table, he did not wish to go out before he had changed his clothes, and he decided to send someone at once to summon Dufresne. He rang and called his servant, but no one replied. The servants had become unaccustomed to seeing their master since Adeline had left the house; Edouard sometimes passed several nights in succession away; the servants no longer observed any restraint, and spent their time amusing themselves. Faithful Marie, the only honest one of them all, had left the house after her mistress’s departure. Edouard left his office and went over the house; he found the kitchen empty, but the cellar door was open; he went down and found his concierge drinking his wine with the cook. The servants were dumfounded at the appearance of their master. He swore and stormed and seized the concierge by the ear, while he administered a kick to the cook. “Monsieur,” stammered the half-tipsy concierge, “you don’t eat in the house any more, and we came here to find out whether the wine was getting spoiled.” Edouard drove the servants before him, left the cellar, and returned to the first floor. Thinking that he heard a noise in his wife’s dressing room, he entered suddenly and found his valet deeply engrossed in close intercourse with the wife of the concierge, a rather attractive young woman, who loved love as much as her husband loved wine. “Morbleu!” cried Edouard, “what a household! what disorder! Do you think that I will put up with this, you curs? I discharge you all!” “As monsieur pleases,” rejoined the valet, with perfect unconcern, as he attended to his costume, while the concierge’s wife held her hands over her breast and did her utmost to shield herself further from the observation to which her dear friend had exposed her, “just pay us our wages, and we’ll go.”