Such is our fixed intention." Nevertheless, the landlord kept his eye glued to the money on the mantelpiece and such was the steady pertinacity of his gaze that the coins seemed to move towards him of themselves.
"I am happy to have come at a time when, without inconveniencing yourself, you can settle this little affair," he said, again producing his receipt to Marcel, who, not being able to parry the assault, again avoided it.
"You have some property in the provinces, I think," he said.
"Very little, very little.

A small house and farm in Burgundy; very trifling returns; the tenants pay so badly, and therefore," he added, pushing forward his receipt again, "this small sum comes just in time.
Sixty francs, you know." "Yes," said Marcel, going to the mantelpiece and taking up three pieces of gold.

"Sixty, sixty it is," and he placed the money on the table just out of the landlord's reach.
"At last," thought the latter.

His countenance lighted up, and he too laid down his receipt on the table.
Schaunard, Colline, and Rodolphe looked anxiously on.
"Well, sir," quoth Marcel, "since you are a Burgundian, you will not be sorry to see a countryman of yours." He opened a bottle of old Macon, and poured out a bumper.
"Ah, perfect!" said the landlord.

"Really, I never tasted better." "An uncle of mine who lives there, sends me a hamper or two occasionally." The landlord rose, and was stretching out his hand towards the money, when Marcel stopped him again.
"You will not refuse another glass ?" said he, pouring one out.
The landlord did not refuse.