"A hundred /louis!/" cried Zephirine; "will that save him?"

Without waiting for her sister-in-law's reply, the old maid ran her
hands through the placket-holes of her gown, unfastened the petticoat
beneath it, which gave forth a heavy sound as it dropped to the floor.
She knew so well the places where she had sewn in her /louis/ that she
now ripped them out with the rapidity of magic. The gold pieces rang
as they fell, one by one, into her lap. The old Pen-Hoel gazed at this
performance in stupefied amazement.

"But they'll see you!" she whispered in her friend's ear.

"Thirty-seven," answered Zephirine, continuing to count.

"Every one will know how much you have."

"Forty-two."

"Double /louis!/ all new! How did you get them, you who can't see
clearly?"

"I felt them. Here's one hundred and four /louis/," cried Zephirine.
"Is that enough?"

"What is all this?" asked the Chevalier du Halga, who now came in,
unable to understand the attitude of his old blind friend, holding out
her petticoat which was full of gold coins.

Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel explained.