"Toupinet."

"Rue du Petit-Banquier?" said Popinot, turning over his register. "He
is in prison," he added, reading a note at the margin of the section
in which this family was described.

"For debt, my kind monsieur."

Popinot shook his head.

"But I have nothing to buy any stock for my truck; the landlord came
yesterday and made me pay up; otherwise I should have been turned
out."

Lavienne bent over his master, and whispered in his ear.

"Well, how much do you want to buy fruit in the market?"

"Why, my good monsieur, to carry on my business, I should want--Yes, I
should certainly want ten francs."

Popinot signed to Lavienne, who took ten francs out of a large bag,
and handed them to the woman, while the lawyer made a note of the loan
in his ledger. As he saw the thrill of delight that made the poor
hawker tremble, Bianchon understood the apprehensions that must have
agitated her on her way to the lawyer's house.

"You next," said Lavienne to the old man with the white beard.

Bianchon drew the servant aside, and asked him how long this audience