My husband had eighteen thousand francs which his father left him. That was a start. We would have to borrow the rest.
A thousand of francs of one, five hundred from another, five louis here and three there. My husband risked everything, not even knowing if we could pay back.
Frightened by the troubles yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was going to to suffer, he went to get the necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs.
I felt a wave of relief, we have finally paid the necklace. I passed it to Madame Forestier, anxious that she would open the box. What would she think? Luckily, she didn't.
After that I felt the wave of panic come. How would we meet the debts? Just how shall we do it? What can we achieve?
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