being locked up in a bank where everybody could get at it except one's self.
That night, while Madame Bourcet snored and snoozed peacefully, Fifi, by the light of a solitary candle, was down on her knees, sewing her money up in the mattress. She made a hard little knob of it right in the middle, so she could feel it every time she turned over in bed. Then, climbing into bed, she slept the sleep of conscious innocence and peace.
The next event in Fifi's life was to be her presentation to the Holy Father. For this Madame Bourcet severely coached Fifi. She was taught how to walk, how to speak, how to curtsey, how to go in and how to go out of the room on the great occasion. Fifi learned with her new docility and obedience, but had a secret conviction that she would forget it all as soon as the occasion came to use it.
A week or two after Fifi had rescued her money from the bank the day arrived for her presentation to the Holy Father, who had personally appointed the time. Since Fifi's journey from Italy in her childhood, she had never been so far from the street of the Black Cat as Fontainebleau, and the length
