Where meanwhile was he who had been once first favourite for this race for money? Becky and Rawdon, as we have seen, were come together after Waterloo, and were passing the winter of 1815 at Paris in great splendour and gaiety. Rebecca was a good economist, and the price poor Jos Sedley had paid for her two horses was in itself sufficient to keep their little establishment afloat for a year, at the least; there was no occasion to turn into money "my pistols, the same which I shot Captain Marker," or the gold dressing-case, or the cloak lined with sable. Becky had it made into a pelisse for herself, in which she rode in the Bois de Boulogne to the admiration of all: and you should have seen the scene between her and her delighted husband, whom she rejoined after the army had entered Cambray, and when she unsewed herself, and let out of her dress all those watches, knick-knacks, bank-notes, cheques, and valuables, which she had secreted in the wadding, previous to her meditated flight from Brussels! Tufto was charmed, and Rawdon roared with delighted laughter, and swore that she was better than any play he ever saw, by Jove. And the way in which she jockeyed Jos, and which she described with infinite fun, carried up his delight to a pitch of quite insane enthusiasm. He believed in his wife as much as the French soldiers in Napoleon.

Where meanwhile was he who had once been first favourite for this race? Rawdon and Becky were reunited after Waterloo, and were passing the winter of 1815 at Paris in great splendour and gaiety.
Rebecca was a good economist, and the price poor Jos Sedley had paid for her two horses was enough to keep their little establishment afloat for a year; there was no need to sell the pistols, or the gold dressing-case, or the cloak lined with sable. Becky had it made into a pelisse, in which she rode in the Bois de Boulogne to the admiration of all. You should have seen her when she unsewed herself, and let out of her dress all those watches, bank-notes and valuables which she had secreted in the wadding! Tufto was charmed, and Rawdon, delighted, roared with laughter, and swore that she was better than any play. And when she described how she had outwitted Jos, his delight reached a pitch of quite insane enthusiasm. He believed in his wife as much as the French soldiers in Napoleon.
