Suzette would have
liked a silken robe, a new bonnet, a paletot, gloves and concomitants
unlimited. She delighted to walk upon the Boulevard, the Rue Rivoli, and
into the Palais Royal, looking into the shop-windows and selecting what
she would buy when Ralph's remittances came. Her hospitality when his
friends visited him did less honor to her purse than to her heart. She
certainly made excellent punches; Terrapin thought her cigarettes
unrivalled; she was fond of cutting a fruit-pie, and was quite a
_connoisseur_ with wines. Ralph did not wonder at her tidiness when the
laundry bills were presented, but doubted that the _coiffeur_ beautified
her hair; and one day, when a cool gentleman in civil uniform knocked at
the door, and insisted upon the immediate payment of a bill for fifty
francs, he lost his temper and said bad words. What could be done?
Suzette was sobbing; Ralph detested "scenes;" he threatened to leave
the hotel and Paris, and frightened her very much--and paid the money.
"You said, Suzette, that you had rendered a full account of all your
indebtedness. You told me a lie!"
"Poor boy," she replied, "this debt was so old that I never expected to
hear of it."
"Have you any more--old or otherwise?"
Suzette said demurely that she did not owe a sou in the world, but was
able to recall thirty francs in the course of the afternoon, and assured
him, truly, that this was the last.
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