"Look here, Charles," he said, in the half-earnest, half-joking
tone which always used to make Charles laugh, "it will really be
too absurd to advertise: 'According to an amicable agreement, from
such and such a date the firm of--'"
"I have been thinking," interrupted Charles, quietly, "that we
will put: 'According to MUTUAL agreement.'"
Alphonse laughed no more; he put down his glass, and the cutlet
tasted bitter in his mouth.
He understood that friendship was dead between them, why or
wherefore he could not tell; but he thought that Charles was hard
and unjust to him. He was now stiffer and colder than the other.
They worked together until the business of dissolution was
finished; then they parted.
A considerable time passed, and the two quondam friends worked
each in his own quarter in the great Paris. They met at the
Bourse, but never did business with each other. Charles never
worked against Alphonse; he did not wish to ruin him; he wished
Alphonse to ruin himself.
And Alphonse seemed likely enough to meet his friend's wishes in
this respect. It is true that now and then he did a good stroke of
business, but the steady industry he had learned from Charles he
soon forgot. He began to neglect his office, and lost many good
connections.
He had always had a taste for dainty and luxurious living, but his
association with the frugal Charles had hitherto held his
extravagances in check. Now, on the contrary, his life became more
and more dissipated.
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