"I cannot thank you; no words are possible, my nephew," said the poor
mother, whose eyes filled with tears. "Night and morning in my prayers
I shall add one for you, the most earnest of all--for those who
travel. If I die, Eugenie will keep this treasure for you."
"They are worth nine hundred and eighty-nine francs, seventy-five
centimes," said Grandet, opening the door. "To save you the pain of
selling them, I will advance the money--in /livres/."
The word /livres/ on the littoral of the Loire signifies that crown