For a reply M. Langis significantly patted the porte-monnaie which he held in his hand, and which was literally stuffed with bank-notes. Immediately Samuel took from a locked drawer a casket, and proceeded to open it. “This is a very precious gem,” he said. “The medallion is gold, and the work on the miniature is exquisite. It is a master-piece--the colour equals the design. The mouth is marvellously rendered. Mengs or Liotard could not have done better. At what do you value this work of art?” “You are more of a connoisseur than I. I will leave it to your own valuation.” “I will let you have the trinket for five thousand francs; it is almost nothing.” Camille began to draw out the five thousand francs from his porte-monnaie. “How prompt you are!” remarked Samuel. “The portrait has not only a value as a work of art; I am sure you attach a sentimental value to it, for I suspect you of being head and ears in love with the original.” “I find you too greedy,” replied Camille, casting on him a crushing glance. “Do not be angry. I am accustomed to exercise methodical precision in business affairs. My father always sold at a fixed price, and I, too, never lower my charges. You will readily understand that what is worth five thousand francs to a friend is worth double to a lover. This gem is worth ten thousand francs. You can take it or leave it.” “I will take it,” replied M. Langis. “Since we agree,” continued Samuel, “I possess still other articles which might suit you.” “Why, do you think of selling me your clothing?” “Let us come to an understanding. I have other articles of the same lot.” And he brought from a closet the red hood, which he spread out on the table. “Here is an article of clothing--to use your own words--that may be of interest to you. Its colour is beautiful; if you saw it in the sunshine, it would dazzle you. I grant that the stuff is common--it is very ordinary cashmere--but if you deign to examine it closely, you will be struck by the peculiar perfume that it exhales. The Italians call it ‘_l’odor femminino_.’” “And what is your rate of charge for the ‘_odor femminino_?’” “I will be moderate. I will let you have this article and its perfume for five thousand francs. It is actually giving it away.” “Assuredly. We will say ten and five--that makes fifteen thousand.” “One moment. You can pay for all together. I have other things to offer you. One would say that the floor burned your feet, and that you could not endure being in this room.” “I allow that I long to leave this--what shall I say?--this shop, lair, or den.” “You are young, monsieur; it never does to hurry; haste causes us acts of forgetfulness that we afterwards regret. You would be sorry not to take away with you these two scraps of paper.” At these words he drew from his note-book two letters, which he unfolded. “Is there much more?” demanded Camille. “I fear that I shall become short of funds, and be obliged to go back for more.”