"Twelve thousand francs!"--And Monsieur de Mardeille jumped so high that his head nearly struck the ceiling.--"Twelve thousand francs!" he repeated. "Do you think that that is nothing, mademoiselle?" "I think that it is no more than is necessary to make a child into a man. Why, by putting that sum in the savings bank at once, one would have a little income, which would keep increasing. Oh! you may be sure, monsieur, that the mother would keep nothing for herself; but she would at least be at ease with respect to her child's future." "And as she would use none of that little income for herself, she would still have to be supported, I suppose?" "Oh! no, monsieur! That sum, once given, would be the whole; she would accept nothing more." The elderly beau began once more to stride back and forth, ejaculating from time to time: "The world is getting to be a curious place; it's a good school; one learns something every day!--But women are becoming sharper and sharper! We're nothing but children beside them! Twelve thousand francs! Why, not long ago, a man might have had more than a hundred mistresses with that money! I am not speaking for myself, for God knows I never ruined myself for women! I always triumphed without untying my purse strings. I prefer that way; at all events, I was sure that I was loved on my own account. They didn't offer to break the bargain!" "Do you know, monsieur, that these reflections of yours are not very polite!" said Georgette, annoyed by his soliloquies. "Why, mademoiselle, it seems to me that I might at least be permitted to complain!" "No, monsieur, you may not. You criticise my conduct! But if I choose, monsieur, I should have to say but a word to make you blush for yours; to force you to lower your crest before me and ask my pardon for all your impertinence." Monsieur de Mardeille stared at her and stammered: "I don't understand a word of what you say, mademoiselle. If you would explain yourself a little more clearly----" "It doesn't suit me to do so at this moment; but, never fear, you won't lose anything by waiting." The neighbor took his hat to go, saying to himself: "I won't lose anything? That's a question. I am very much afraid I shall have nothing to show for my brooch. If I dared, I'd ask her to give it back; but I don't dare, especially as I have an idea that she wouldn't do it. This little vixen holds me in awe; she has such a way of speaking, such a decided tone! What an idiot I have been! This will teach me to make sacrifices for women!" He turned to Georgette, and with a curt nod to her left the room, infinitely less radiant than he had been in the morning, and muttering between his teeth: "Twelve thousand francs! a little shirtmaker! What are we coming to? Great God! what are we coming to?" XVII A PARCEL