Moncharmin stood up, more irritated than ever, and found himself faced by an exasperated Richard, who, crossing his arms on his chest, said: "Look here, I'm thinking of this, I'M THINKING OF WHAT I MIGHT THINK if, like last time, after my spending the evening alone with you, you brought me home and if, at the moment of parting, I perceived that twenty-thousand francs had disappeared from my coat-pocket ...

like last time." "And what might you think ?" asked Moncharmin, crimson with rage.
"I might think that, as you hadn't left me by a foot's breadth and as, by your own wish, you were the only one to approach me, like last time, I might think that, if that twenty-thousand francs was no longer in my pocket, it stood a very good chance of being in yours!" Moncharmin leaped up at the suggestion.
"Oh!" he shouted.

"A safety-pin!" "What do you want a safety-pin for ?" "To fasten you up with! ...

A safety-pin! ...

A safety-pin!" "You want to fasten me with a safety-pin ?" "Yes, to fasten you to the twenty-thousand francs! Then, whether it's here, or on the drive from here to your place, or at your place, you will feel the hand that pulls at your pocket and you will see if it's mine! Oh, so you're suspecting me now, are you?
A safety-pin!" And that was the moment when Moncharmin opened the door on the passage and shouted: "A safety-pin! ...