I have sold all my trinkets, and we are existing on credit." "Poor little thing!" interrupted the banker.
Her hopes grew under these words of pity.
"And yet," continued she, "business has never been so brisk.

New customers are constantly coming in, and though our profits are small, the returns are rapid." As Martin Rigal heard her exposition of the state of affairs, he nodded gravely.
"That is all very well," said he at last, "but this does not make the security you offer me of any more value.

I have more confidence in you." "But remember, sir, that we have thirty thousand francs' worth of stock." "That is not what I was alluding to," and the banker accompanied these words with so meaning a look, that the poor woman blushed scarlet and almost lost her nerve.

"Your stock," said he, "is of no more value in my eyes than the bill you offer me.

Suppose, for instance, you were to become bankrupt, the landlord might come down upon everything, for he has great power." He broke off abruptly, for Flavia's maid, as a privileged person, entered the room without knocking.
"Sir," said she, "my mistress wishes to see you at once." The banker got up directly.