I put a few simple questions, she pledged me to secrecy.

I told her that I would ask the prison authorities to send him to me on his discharge.
"I so please, I now go back to Paris; I come again and I bring you money," she said, as she shook her furs and took herself and her flaxen hair to somewhere else than Paris, so I felt persuaded.
Two days before the prisoner's discharge she burst in again, huffy head, furs and gesticulation as before.

"I come from Paris this morning, I bring you money." I was not present, but I had previously warned my assistant not to receive any money.

The gay Parisian was informed that no money could be received, but she promptly put two sovereigns on the desk and disappeared---but not to Paris! He stood before me at last, a little fellow, smart looking, erect, self-satisfied and self-reliant.

I told him of the two sovereigns and the fluffy hair, of the good intentions of his Parisian friend.