"Here is a special bill for the boots.

Three pairs of boots at twenty francs, sixty francs." Rodolphe cast a look of pity on a pair of worn out boots.
"Alas!" he thought, "they could not be worse if they had been worn by the Wandering Jew.

Yet it was in running after Marie that they got so worn out.

Go on, Monsieur Benoit." "We were saying sixty francs," replied the latter.

"Then money lent, twenty seven francs." "Stop a bit, Monsieur Benoit.