midnight
He spends next to nothing ; we have absolutely no secrets from each other ; there is not a corner of his study which my eyes and my fingers may not explore . His yearly expenditure does not amount to two thousand francs , and I know that he has thirty thousand , I can hardly say laid by , but scattered loose in a drawer . You can guess what is coming . At midnight , while he was sleeping , I went to see if the money was still there . An icy shiver ran through me . The drawer was empty . That same week I discovered that he went to Sevres to fetch his letters , and these letters he must tear up immediately ; for though I am a very Figaro in contrivances , I have never yet seen a trace of one .