She composed as he directed.
Toward the finish of multi week they had lost all expectation.
What's more, Loisel, who had matured five years, pronounced:
"We should consider how to supplant the gem."
The following day they took the container which had held it, and went to the diamond setter whose name they viewed as inside. He counseled his books.
"It was not I, madame, who sold the neckband; I should essentially have provided the case."
Thus they went from one goldsmith to another, searching for a neckband like the other one, counseling their recollections, both wiped out with sadness and agony.
In a shop at the Palais Royal, they found a series of jewels which appeared to be precisely exact thing they were searching for. It was worth 40,000 francs. They could have it for 36 thousand.
So they asked the gem dealer not to sell it for three days. Furthermore, they made a game plan that he would take it back for 34 thousand francs assuming the other neckband was tracked down before the finish of February.
Loisel had eighteen thousand francs which his dad had left him. He would get the rest.
What's more, he acquired, requesting 1,000 francs from one man, 500 from another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, settled on ruinous arrangements, managed usurers, with each sort of cash moneylender. He compromised the remainder of his life, took a chance with marking notes without knowing if he would at any point respect them, and, unnerved by the pain just on the horizon, by the dark wretchedness going to fall on him, by the possibility of each and every actual privation and each ethical torment he was going to endure, he went to get the new neckband, and set down on the gem dealer's counter 36 thousand francs.
At the point when Madame Loisel took the accessory back, Madame Forestier said icily:
"You ought to have returned it sooner, I could have required it."