“Now to begin with, I want your accounts,” he shouted. “Let's see; hand over the money! Now where do we stand?”
All his sordid avaricious instincts came to the surface. Nana was cowed and scared, and she made haste to fetch their remaining cash out of the desk and to bring it him. Up to that time the key had lain on this common treasury, from which they had drawn as freely as they wished.
“How's this?” he said when he had counted up the money. “There are scarcely seven thousand francs remaining out of seventeen thousand, and we've only been together three months. The thing's impossible.”
He rushed forward, gave the desk a savage shake and brought the drawer forward in order to ransack it in the light of the lamp. But it actually contained only six thousand eight hundred and odd francs.
