where the thousand-and-one poisonous concoctions of alcohol display their
alluring colors.

Frantz was familiar with all these forms of misery; but never had they
seemed to him so depressing, so harrowing as on that evening.

When the last man was paid, Sigismond came out of his office. The two
friends recognized each other and embraced; and in the silence of the
factory, at rest for twenty-four hours and deathly still in all its empty
buildings, the cashier explained to Frantz the state of affairs. He
described Sidonie's conduct, her mad extravagance, the total wreck of the
family honor. The Rislers had bought a country house at Asnieres,
formerly the property of an actress, and had set up a sumptuous
establishment there. They had horses and carriages, and led a luxurious,
gay life. The thing that especially disturbed honest Sigismond was the
self restraint of Fromont jeune. For some time he had drawn almost no
money from the strong-box, and yet Sidonie was spending more than ever.

"I haf no gonfidence!" said the unhappy cashier, shaking his head, "I haf
no gonfidence!"

Lowering his voice he added:

"But your brother, my little Frantz, your brother? Who can explain his
actions? He goes about through it all with his eyes in the air, his
hands in his pockets, his mind on his famous invention, which
unfortunately doesn't move fast. Look here! do you want me to give you
my opinion?--He's either a knave or a fool."

They were walking up and down the little garden as they talked, stopping