“The time for New Year’s gifts.”
“Yes.”
“Here’s one for you that Laroche-Mathieu gave me just now.”
She gave him a little black box resembling a jewel-case. He opened it indifferently, and saw the cross of the Legion of Honor. He grew somewhat pale, then smiled, and said: “I should have preferred ten millions. That did not cost him much.”
She had expected an outburst of joy, and was irritated at this coolness. “You are really incredible. Nothing satisfies you now,” said she.
He replied, tranquilly: “That man is only paying his debt, and he still owes me a great deal.”
She was astonished at his tone, and resumed: “It is though, a big thing at your age.”
He remarked: “All things are relative. I could have something bigger now.”
He had