think you are a little fool. They owe you ever so much more than that.
However, I must have the things," and he gave her back the paper with
the caution--"Be sure you let no one see that, and be very certain that
you get the right things." He walked with her as far as the corner of
the Rue de Lille. "You are not angry with me?" he asked her before they
parted.

"I would do anything for you," she whispered, and then he kissed her
good night.

She got the chemicals when the proprietor was out, and tied them up
neatly, as was her habit, afterwards concealing them in the little
basket in which she carried her lunch. The proprietor was a sharp-eyed
old lynx, who looked well after his shop and his pretty little
assistant.

"Who has been getting so much chlorate of potash?" he asked, taking
down the jar, and looking sharply at her.

The girl trembled.

"It is all right," she said. "Here is the money in the till."

"Of course," he said. "I did not expect you to give it away for
nothing. Who bought it?"

"An old man," replied the girl, trembling still, but the proprietor did
not notice that--he was counting the money, and found it right.

"I was wondering what he wanted with so much of it. If he comes in