It was already late, and there was not another moment to lose, so Cartouche had to run away and leave the manager to his misery.
The performance was hardly up to the mark that night. Sensational tales of Fifi's return had flown like wildfire about the theater. She was commonly reported to have come back in a coach and pair, with a van full of huge boxes, all crammed with the most superb costumes. Such stories were naturally disquieting to Julie Campionet, and together with her scene in the afternoon, impaired her performance visibly.
As for Fifi, she was at that moment established in her old room, which luckily was vacant, and was cooking a pair of pork chops over a charcoal stove—and was perfectly happy. So was Toto, who barked vociferously, and had to be held in Fifi's arms, to keep his paws off the red-hot stove. There was a bottle of wine, some sausages, and onions and cheese, and a box of highly colored bonbons, for which Fifi had rashly expended three francs. But it is not every day, thought Fifi, that one comes home to one's best beloved—and so she made a little feast for Cartouche and herself.
Cartouche was late that night, and trying to
