And what do you suppose I am to wear at such an affair? I'm utterly miserable at not having any jewels, not a single stone, to wear,I shall look absolutely no one. I would almost rather not go to the party.
Mathilde dreams being rich”She imagined vast saloons hung with antique silks,exquisite pieces of furniture,etc….” and then gets invited to the ball "The Minister of Education and Madame Ramponneau request the pleasure of the company of Monsieur and Madame Loisel at the Ministry on the evening of Monday, January the 18th."
She complains having nothing to wear and no jewelry "And what do you suppose I am to wear at such an affair?" "I'm utterly miserable at not having any jewels, not a single stone, to wear," "I shall look absolutely no one. I would almost rather not go to the party."
She gets a dress with her husbands money "Very well. I'll give you four hundred francs. But try and get a really nice dress with the money."She visits her friend madame Forestier she is offered jewels but does not like any of them then finds this diamond necklace "Choose, my dear."She kept on asking: "Haven't you anything else?" "Yes. Look for yourself. I don't know what you would like best." Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin case, a superb diamond necklace;
Oh my poor Mathilde!But mine was imitation. It was worth at the very most five hundred francs!
She loses it at the ball "I . . . I . . . I've no longer got Madame Forestier's necklace. . . ."
They work hard to get Thirty four thousand franks and ends up in debt so they work for other peopleHe mortgaged the whole remaining years of his existence, risked his signature without even knowing if he could honor it, and, appalled at the agonising face of the future, at the black misery about to fall upon him, at the prospect of every possible physical privation and moral torture, he went to get the new necklace and put down upon the jeweller's counter thirty-six thousand francs.
The necklace was only five hundred francs (Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her two hands. "Oh, my poor Mathilde! But mine was imitation. It was worth at the very most five hundred francs! . . . ")