She passed through the one and with downcast eyes was standing at the other, her hand lifted to knock, when the door was drawn open and the white duck shoes passed out.

She saw, besides, this time the blue cottonade suit.
"Yes," the voice of Pere Jerome was saying, as his face appeared in the door--"Ah! Madame--" "I lef' my para_sol_," said Madame Delphine, in English.
There was this quiet evidence of a defiant spirit hidden somewhere down under her general timidity, that, against a fierce conventional prohibition, she wore a bonnet instead of the turban of her caste, and carried a parasol.
Pere Jerome turned and brought it.
He made a motion in the direction in which the late visitor had disappeared.
"Madame Delphine, you saw dat man ?" "Not his face." "You couldn' billieve me iv I tell you w'at dat man pur_pose_ to do!" "Is dad so, Pere Jerome ?" "He's goin' to hopen a bank!" "Ah!" said Madame Delphine, seeing she was expected to be astonished.
Pere Jerome evidently longed to tell something that was best kept secret; he repressed the impulse, but his heart had to say something.

He threw forward one hand and looking pleasantly at Madame Delphine, with his lips dropped apart, clenched his extended hand and thrusting it toward the ground, said in a solemn under-tone: "He is God's own banker, Madame Delphine.".