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 would have committed this horrid crime, as he conceived it.

So Fifi checked the ebullition that was rising in her, and kept her head and held her tongue. But when she was once alone in her own large, solemn room, fitter for a dowager duchess than for little Fifi, she poured out her soul in a letter to Cartouche—thus:

"Cartouche—Why haven't you been to see me? Cartouche, I believe you have forgotten me—that odious Julie Campionet has played me some trick, I know she has. Cartouche, having money is not all we thought it was. It is very dull being rich and certain of one's dinner every day. Madame Bourcet and I went out yesterday and bought a gown. Cartouche, do you remember when I had saved up the thirty francs to buy a cloak, and bought Toto, my darling Toto, instead? And how angry you were with me? And then you gave me the cloak out of your own money? Don't send Toto to see me—it would break my heart. The gown I bought yesterday is hideous. It is a dark brown with green spots. Madame Bourcet selected it. There was a beautiful pink thing, with