- ton-backed satin, which Fifi longed for—but when
she mentioned the flannel lining of the first one to Cartouche, he had promptly vetoed the cotton-backed satin.
Fifi set forth gaily, feeling warm in spite of her thin black silk mantle.
It was near dusk and a great silver moon was smiling down at Fifi from the dark blue heavens. The streets were crowded and there was as much gaiety in them as in the finer faubourgs across the river. The chestnut venders were out in force, and on nearly every corner one of them had set up his temporary kitchen, whose ruddy glow lighted up the clear-obscure of the evening.
Around these centers of light and warmth people were gathered, sniffing the pungent odor of the roasting chestnuts, and spending five-centime pieces with a splendid generosity. The street hawkers did a rushing business; one could buy broken furniture, cheeses, toy balloons, cheap bon-*bons and cakes tied with gay ribbons, within twenty feet of anywhere. Three organ-grinders were going at the same time in front of the brightly lighted shop where Fifi's cloak was—for she already reckoned it hers. But alas for Fifi! Di-
