?
It would pay you to be a trifle more polite, young man. When you get as
old as I am, you will find out that it pays to--what? I didn't see you
adding any column of figures. In that case I am sorry. You have no
night-shirts open front and back, eh? Well, good-day."

As the elderly gentleman vanished, the clerk with a blonde moustache
grasped the novel like some famished animal. He read on: "A peasant
stood before the two children. He wrung his hands. 'Have you seen a
stray cow?' 'No,' cried the children in the same breath. The peasant
wept. He wrung his hands. It was a supreme moment.

"'She loves me!' cried Silvere to himself, as he changed his clothes for
dinner.

"It was evening. The children sat by the fire-place. Heloise wore a
gown of clinging white. She looked fresh, fair, innocent. Silvere was in
raptures. 'Ah, my God!'

"Old Jean, the peasant, saw nothing. He was mending harness. The fire
crackled in the fire-place. The children loved each other. Through the
open door to the kitchen came the sound of old Marie shrilly cursing the
geese who wished to enter. In front of the window two pigs were
quarrelling over a vegetable. Cattle were lowing in a distant field. A
hay-waggon creaked slowly past. Thirty-two chickens were asleep in the
branches of a tree. This subtle atmosphere had a mighty effect upon
Heloise. It was beating down her self-control. She felt herself going.
She was choking.

"The young girl made an effort. She stood up. 'Good-night, I must go.'
Silvere took her hand. 'Heloise,' he murmured. Outside the two pigs were
fighting.

"A warm blush overspread the young girl's face. She turned wet eyes
toward her lover. She looked fresh, fair, innocent. Silvere was
maddened. 'Ah, my God!'

"Suddenly the young girl began to tremble. She tried vainly to withdraw
her hand. But her knee--"

"I wish to get my husband some shirts," said a shopping-woman with six
bundles. The clerk with a blonde moustache made a private gesture of
despair, and rapidly spread a score of different-patterned shirts upon
the counter. "He's very particular about his shirts," said the
shopping-woman. "Oh, I don't think any of these will do. Don't you keep
the Invincible brand? He only wears that kind. He says they fit him
better. And he's very particular about his shirts. What? You don't keep
them? No? Well, how much do you think they would come at?" "Haven't the
slightest idea." "Well, I suppose I must go somewhere else, then