I counted out my pennies with a last grumble.

"They ought to call this the Rue Coupebourses."

He laughed; he could afford to, with my silver jingling in his pouch. He

embraced me tenderly at parting, and hoped to see me again at his inn. I

smiled to myself; I had not come to Paris--I--to stay in the Rue

Coupejarrets!

The Helmet of Navarre · 第 18 / 109 题