CHAPTER VIII.
MADEMOISELLE DE MUSSIDAN.
Paul had not been the only watcher; for at the sound of the carriage wheels the ancient portress took up her position in the doorway, with her eyes fixed on the face of the young lady.

When the two women had ascended the stairs, a sudden inspiration seized her, and she went out and spoke to the cabman.
"Nasty night," remarked she; "I don't envy you in such weather as this." "You may well say that," replied the driver; "my feet are like lumps of ice." "Have you come far ?" "Rather; I picked them up in the Champs Elysees, near the Avenue de Matignon." "That is a distance." "Yes; and only five sous for drink money.

Hang your respectable women!" "Oh! they are respectable, are they ?" "I'll answer for that.

The other lot are far more open-handed.

I know both of them." And with these words and a knowing wink, he touched up his horse and drove away; and the portress, only half satisfied, went back to her lodge.
"Why that is the quarter where all the swells live," murmured she.