" the fish-girl would exclaim,
with a laugh. "Did the old man want to salt his money, since he put
it in a salting-tub? Eighty-five thousand francs! That's a nice sum
of money! And, besides, the Quenus, no doubt, lied about it--there
was perhaps two or three times as much. Ah, if I were in your place, I
shouldn't lose any time about claiming my share; indeed I shouldn't."

"I've no need of anything," was Florent's invariable answer. "I
shouldn't know what to do with the money if I had it."

"Oh, you're no man!" cried La Normande, losing all control over herself.
"It's pitiful! Can't you see that the Quenus are laughing at you? That
great fat thing passes all her husband's old clothes over to you. I'm
not saying this to hurt your feelings, but everybody makes remarks about
it. Why, the whole neighbourhood has seen the greasy pair of trousers,
which you're now wearing, on your brother's legs for three years and
more! If I were in your place I'd throw their dirty rags in their faces,
and insist upon my rights. Your share comes to forty-two thousand five
hundred francs, doesn't it? Well, I shouldn't go out of the place till
I'd got forty-two thousand five hundred francs."

It was useless for Florent to explain to her that his sister-in-law had
offered to pay him his share, that she was taking care of it for him,
and that it was he himself who had refused to receive it. He entered
into the most minute particulars, seeking to convince her of the Quenus'
honesty, but she sarcastically replied: "Oh, yes, I dare say! I know all
about their honesty. That fat thing folds it up every morning and puts
it away in her wardrobe for fear it should get soiled. Really, I quite
pity you, my poor friend. It's easy to gull you, for you can't see any
further than a child of five. One of these days she'll simply put your
money in her pocket, and you'll never look on it again. Shall I go, now,
and claim your share for you, just to see what she says? There'd be
some fine fun, I can tell you! I'd either have the money, or I'd break
everything in the house--I swear I would!"

"No, no, it's no business of yours," Florent replied, quite alarmed.
"I'll see about it; I may possibly be wanting some money soon."

At this La Normande assumed an air of doubt, shrugged her shoulders, and
told him that he was really too chicken-hearted. Her one great aim now
was to embroil him with the Quenu-Gradelles, and she employed every
means she could think of to