inspection. "It seems impossible that you should have come out of a
rag-heap! And your sweet disposition----"

Madame Podvin elevated her hands in sheer despair of being able to
describe it.

"It must go well with you, madame, you are always so amiable and
cheerful," retorted Mlle. Fouchette.

"But you are more lovely every day you grow older," said Madame
Podvin.

"Ah! Madame does not grow older!"

"Fouchette, cherie, I'm sure you must belong to a good family, you are
so naturally winning and well-bred. The clothes you had on when I
found you----"

"Madame?"

"I gave them away--for twenty--yes, it was twenty francs--they were
not worth as many sous--to a gentleman----"

Madame Podvin stopped at the sight of Mlle. Fouchette's face; but,
uncertain whether the subject pained, interested, or irritated the
latter, she continued,----

"It was shortly after you left. He was very curious,--one of these
government spies, you know, Fouchette----"

"Madame, I would see Mademoiselle Madeleine," interrupted the other.

Madame Podvin frowned.

"Not sick, I hope," added Fouchette.

"Oh! no; only----"

"Drinking?"

"Like a fish!"

"Poor Madeleine!"

"She's a beast!" cried Madame Podvin.

Madame Podvin sold vile liquor but despised the fools who drank it,
and in this she was not singular.

"Is she----" Mlle. Fouchette raised her eyes heavenward inquiringly.

"No,--she's in the street. Ever since she got out of the hospital she
has been going from bad to worse every day. And she owes me two weeks'
lodging. If she doesn't pay up soon I'll----"

Whatever the Podvin intended to do with Madeleine she left it unsaid,
for the latter stood in the doorway.

Great, indeed, was the change which had come over this unfortunate
girl. Stout to repulsiveness, shabby of attire, fiery of face,
unsteady of pose, with one bright beautiful eye burning with the
supernatural fire of absinthe, the other sealed in internal darkness.

"Oh! Madeleine----" began Mlle. Fouchette, painfully impressed and
hesitating.

"What! No! Fouchette? Mon ange!"

The drunken woman staggered forward to embrace her friend.

"Why, Madeleine----"

"Hold! And first tell me your bad news. You know you always bring me
bad news, deary. You hunt me up when you have bad news. Come, now!"

"La, la, la, la!" trilled Mlle. Fouchette, passing her arm around the
other's thick waist to gain time.

"Come! mon ange,--we'll have a drink anyhow. Mere! some