llon had demanded an interview,
and that I had wished to keep the chair so as to shew her that I could
have her if I liked. I shewed him the letter, and he advised me to accede
to her request, if only for curiosity's sake.

I was in no hurry to see the creature while the marks on her face and
neck were still fresh, so I spent seven or eight days without making up
my mind to receive her. Goudar came every day, and told me of the
confabulations of these women who had made up their minds not to live
save by trickery.

He told me that the grandmother had taken the name of Anspergher without
having any right to it, as she was merely the mistress of a worthy
citizen of Berne, by whom she had four daughters; the mother of the
Charpillon was the youngest of the family, and, as she was pretty and
loose in her morals, the Government had exiled her with her mother and
sisters. They had then betaken themselves to Franche-Comte, where they
lived for some time on the Balm of Life. Here it was that the Charpillon
came into the world, her mother attributing her to a Count de
Boulainvilliers. The child grew up pretty, and the family removed to
Paris under the impression that it would be the best market for such a
commodity, but in the course of four years the income from the Balm
having dwindled greatly, the Charpillon being still too young to be
profitable, and debtors closing round them on every side, they resolved
to come to London.

He then proceeded to tell me of the various tricks and cheats which kept
them all alive. I found his narrative interesting enough then, but the
reader would find it dull, and I expect will be grateful for my passing
it over.

I felt that it was fortunate for me that I had Goudar, who introduced me
to all the most famous courtezans in London, above all to the illustrious
Kitty Fisher, who was just beginning to be fashionable. He also
introduced me to a girl of sixteen, a veritable prodigy of beauty, who
served at the bar of a tavern at which we took a bottle of strong beer.
She was an Irishwoman and a Catholic, and was named Sarah. I should have
liked to get possession of her, but Goudar had views of his own on the
subject, and carried her off in the course of the next year. He ended by
marrying her, and she was the Sara Goudar who shone at Naples, Florence,
Venice, and elsewhere. We shall hear of her in four or five years, still
with her husband. Goudar had conceived the plan of making her take the