Other People's Money
But already, at this time, M. Vincent Favoral's situation had been singularly
The revolution of 1848 had just taken place. The factory in the Faubourg St.
Antoine, where he was employed, had been compelled to close its doors.
One evening, as he came home at the usual hour, he announced that he had
Mme. Favoral shuddered at the thought of what her husband might be, without
work, and deprived of his salary.
"What is to become of us?" she murmured.
He shrugged his shoulders. Visibly he was much excited. His cheeks were
flushed; his eyes sparkled.
"Bash!" he said: "we shan't starve for all that." And, as his wife was gazing at him
"Well," he went on, "what are you looking at? It is so: I know many a one who
affects to live on his income, and who are not as well off as we are."
It was, for over six years since he was married, the first time that he spoke of his
business otherwise than to groan and complain, to accuse fate, and curse the
high price of living. The very day before, he had declared himself ruined by the
purchase of a pair of shoes for Maxence. The change was so sudden and so
great, that she hardly knew what to think, and wondered if grief at the loss of his
situation had not somewhat disturbed his mind.