"It can't be done that way, papa Lantimeche," Cerizet was saying to a
tall old man, seeming to be about seventy years of age, who was
standing before him with a red woollen cap in his hand, exhibiting a
bald head, and a breast covered with white hairs visible through his
miserable linen jacket. "Tell me exactly what you want to undertake.
One hundred francs, even on condition of getting back one hundred and
twenty, can't be let loose that way, like a dog in a church--"

The five other applicants, among whom were two women, both with
infants, one knitting, the other suckling her child, burst out
laughing.

When Cerizet saw Dutocq, he rose respectfully and went rather hastily
to meet him, adding to his client:--

"Take time to reflect; for, don't you see? it makes me doubtful to
have such a sum as that, one hundred francs! asked for by an old
journeyman locksmith!"

"But I tell you it concerns an invention," cried the old workman.

"An invention and one hundred francs!" said Dutocq. "You don't know
the laws; you must take out a patent, and that costs two thousand
francs, and you want influence."

"All that is true," said Cerizet, who, however, reckoned a good deal
on such chances. "Come to-morrow morning, papa Lantimeche, at six
o'clock, and we'll talk it over; you can't talk inventions in public."