"I have only one shawl left," he continued, "but I never show it. It
is not to everybody's taste; it is quite out of the common. I was
thinking of giving it to my wife. We have had it in stock since 1805;
it belonged to the Empress Josephine."

"Let me see it, monsieur."

"Go for it," said the master, turning to a shopman. "It is at my
house."

"I should be very much pleased to see it," said the English lady.

This was a triumph. The splenetic dame was apparently on the point of
going. She made as though she saw nothing but the shawls; but all the
while she furtively watched the shopmen and the two customers,
sheltering her eyes behind the rims of her eyeglasses.

"It cost sixty thousand francs in Turkey, madame."

"Oh!" (_hau_!)

"It is one of seven shawls which Selim sent, before his fall, to the
Emperor Napoleon. The Empress Josephine, a Creole, as you know, my
lady, and very capricious in her tastes, exchanged this one for
another brought by the Turkish ambassador, and purchased by my
predecessor; but I have never seen the money back. Our ladies in
France are not rich enough; it is not as it is in England. The shawl
is worth seven thousand francs; and taking interest and compound
interest altogether, it makes up fourteen or fifteen thousand by