heaven, sitting opposite to her at the rickety table, and eating Fifi's excellent cabbage-soup. She herself fully appreciated their menu.
"When I was with the Bourcets I could not eat their tasteless messes," she cried. "No garlic, no cabbage, very few onions—and everything sickly sweet. No, Cartouche, one must live as one has lived, and one must have a husband who likes the same things one likes, so that is why I am marrying you a week from Thursday."
"Fifi," said Cartouche, trying to be stern, "haven't I told you to put that silly idea out of your head?"
"Yes, but I haven't though, and to-day I went to Fontainebleau to see the Holy Father, and—now listen to reason, Cartouche—he told me to marry you. Do you understand?"
This was the first Cartouche had heard of the visit to Fontainebleau. Fifi described it glibly, and if she represented the Holy Father as urging and commanding her marriage to Cartouche much more strongly than was actually the case, it must be set down to her artistic instinct which made her give the scene its full dramatic value. When she paused for breath, Cartouche said, glumly:
