"Certainly," replied Duvernet. "You don't suppose I would stand on a little thing like that? Now, you had better take what I offer you, or Julie will certainly spread the report that you wished to come back to the Imperial Theater and I would not let you."
"Bring the contract to me this evening," replied Fifi.
"And to-morrow it is to be published in the newspapers?"
"Of course. In all the newspapers. But, Monsieur, there are some things you must not expect of me now as formerly, such as constructing togas for you out of my white petticoats, and making wigs for you out of tow. I am above that now."
"So I see—for the present—" replied Duvernet, laughing disrespectfully, "but just let Julie Campionet try her hand at that sort of thing in your place, and you would burst if you did not outdo her. Come, here is the diligence. In with you."
Fifi got back to her old quarters in time to prepare supper again for Cartouche. This time they had cabbage-soup and a bit of sausage.
Poor Cartouche, who had alternated between heaven and hell ever since Fifi's return, was in
