My
store grows so slowly, Jean!"
Jean dashed the paper to the ground, and thrust his hands through his
hair.
"Don't talk of it, if you wouldn't madden me!" he exclaimed.
"Might--might--I am sick of mights! Cooped up here I can do nothing, but
if I had only common luck I might get the end of a clue as well as any
other poor devil. I tell you, Marie, I have half a mind to give myself
up, and end everything."
She clung to him, pale as death.
"No, no!"
"You'd get on better without me."
"No, no!"
Jean's tragic air vanished in a rush of real emotion. He put his wife
from him and looked at her sorrowfully.
"Poor soul!" he said slowly. "And you really mean that I haven't tired
you out yet with all my moods and cross words? No? Then, decidedly, we
must rub on a little longer still."
She embraced him with all the gratitude a woman feels when her good
offices are accepted.
"To-morrow," she said cheerfully, "to-morrow will bring you some
tobacco."
"To-morrow will also, I imagine, bring Perine," he replied, with a
laugh, and when he laughed it was possible to see what a handsome young
fellow the haggard man had been. "Well, I am not sure that Perine isn't
preferable to old Plon-Plon. When I hear him prosing away to you on the
duty of being contented, it's all I can do not to knock him down.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225