The Count of Monte Cristo

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have put on some vine-leaves to please you, wicked one. Ah, yes; you
look at my room, my four straw chairs, my images, three francs each. But
what do you expect? This is not the Hotel des Princes."

"Come, you are growing discontented, you are no longer happy; you, who
only wish to live like a retired baker." Caderousse sighed. "Well, what
have you to say? you have seen your dream realized."

"I can still say it is a dream; a retired baker, my poor Benedetto, is
rich--he has an annuity."

"Well, you have an annuity."

"I have?"

"Yes, since I bring you your two hundred francs." Caderousse shrugged
his shoulders. "It is humiliating," said he, "thus to receive money