She opens the door. Some minutes pass. The girl reappears, holding
under her arm a little parcel. Good! she has triumphed. In coming out
she sees a young man, pale, abstracted, who stands before the shop. He
does not attempt to enter. He stands motionless, regarding the window
with an air forlorn.

"Ah," she says to herself, "here is another customer who cannot pay his
bill!"

But wait a little. After 'alf an hour what happens? She sees the young
man again! This time he stands before a modest restaurant. Does he go
in? No, again no! He regards the window sorrowfully. He sighs. The
dejection of his attitude would melt a stone.

"Poor boy," she thought; "he cannot pay for a dinner either!"

The affair is not finished. How the summer day is beautiful--she will
do some footing! Figure yourself that once more she perceives the young
man. Now it is before the mont-de-piete, the pawnbroker's. She watches
him attentively. Here, at least, he will enter, she does not doubt. She
is wrong. It is the same thing--he regards, he laments, he turns away!

"Oh, mon Dieu," she said. "Nothing remains to him to pawn even!"

It is too strong! She addressed him:

"Monsieur!"

But, when she has said "Monsieur," there is the question how she shall
continue. Now the young man regards the girl instead of the