Fifi knew, in her own way, that there is a kinship among all honest souls—and that thus the Holy Father was near of kin to Cartouche.
Fifi did not mention this proposed expedition to Cartouche, because, in her lexicon, it was always easier to justify a thing after it is done than before.
So, when on the morning after her return, the diligence rumbled past the street below that of the Black Cat, Fifi was inside the diligence—and, on the outside, quite unknown to her, was Duvernet.
The manager, it may be imagined, had not had a very easy time of it, either as a manager or a husband for the last twenty-four hours. Julie Campionet had large lung power, and had used it cruelly on him. Nevertheless, the idea of securing Fifi with all her additional values for the Imperial Theater was quite irresistible to Duvernet; and the thought that another manager, more enterprising than he, might get her for ten francs more the week, was intolerable to him. He determined to make a gigantic effort for Fifi's services, and it would be extremely desirable to him to have this crucial interview as far away from the Imperial Theater as possible.
Therefore, Duvernet was on the lookout when
