ll her life. She don't know, she don't understand. And then, d'ye see,
I'll tell you the whole secret: she loves me so much she's jealous of
any woman who loves me. So go in, do!"

And he pushed her into the arms of Madame Jupillon, who kissed her,
mumbled a few words of regret, and made haste to weep in order to
relieve her own embarrassment and make the scene more affecting.

Throughout the evening Germinie sat with her eyes fixed on Jupillon,
almost terrifying him with her expression.

"Come, come," he said, as he walked home with her, "don't be so down in
the mouth as all this. We must have a little philosophy in this world.
Well! here I am a soldier--that's all! To be sure they don't all come
back. But then--look here! I propose that we enjoy ourselves for the
fortnight that's left, because it will be so much gained--and if I don't
come back--Well, at all events, I shall leave you a pleasant memory of
me."

Germinie made no reply.

XXXI

For a whole week Germinie did not set foot in the shop again.

The Jupillons, when she did not return, began to despair. At last, one
evening about half past ten, she pushed the door open, entered the shop
without a word of greeting, walked up to the little table where the
mother and son were sitting half asleep, and placed upon it, beneath her
hand which was closed like a claw, an old piece of cloth that gave forth
a ringing sound.

"There it is!" said she.

And, letting go the corners of the cloth, she emptied its contents on
the table: forth came greasy bank-notes, patched on the back, fastened
together with pins, old tarnished louis d'or, black hundred-sou pieces,
forty-sou pieces, ten-sou pieces, the money of the poor, the money of
toil, money from Christmas-boxes, money soiled by dirty hands, worn out
in leather purses, rubbed smooth in the cash drawer filled with
sous--money with a flavor of perspiration.

For a moment she gazed at the display as if to assure her own eyes; then
she said to Madame Jupillon in a sad voice, the voice of her sacrifice:

"There it is--There's the two thousand three hundred francs for him to
buy a substitute."

"Oh! my dear Germinie!" said the stout woman, almost suffocated by
emotion; and she threw herself upon Germinie's neck, who submitted to be
embraced. "Oh! you must take something with us--a cup of coffee--"

"No, thank you," said Germinie; "I am done up. _Dame!_ I've had to fly
around, you know, to get them. I'm goin