at the Imperial Theater, including Julie Campionet.
Next morning, Fifi awaited the déjeuner with feelings of entrancing pleasure. She loved to see Louis Bourcet make a fool of himself, and longed to make a fool of him—this naughty Fifi.
She was gratified, for at eleven o'clock, Louis appeared, looking, for once, a little sheepish. The desperate robbery had been no robbery at all, but a gift of ninety thousand francs to the fund for the soldiers' orphans. Louis had bought several newspapers, and each contained the official announcement of the banking-house of Lafitte, with a request that the generous donor come forward and discover her identity.
Louis Bourcet, like a good many other people, could always construct a new hypothesis to meet any new development in a case. He at once declared that the donor must be a conscience-stricken woman, who had at some time committed a crime and wished to atone for it. He harped on this theme while Fifi was soberly drinking her chocolate and inwardly quivering with delight. She waited until one of Louis's long-winded periods came to an end, when, the spirit of the actress
