a little question to put to you."

"By all means, M. Richard: Mme. Giry is here to answer you."

"Are you still on good terms with the ghost?"

"Couldn't be better, sir; couldn't be better."

"Ah, we are delighted ... Look here, Mme. Giry," said Richard, in the
tone of making an important confidence. "We may just as well tell you,
among ourselves ... you're no fool!"

"Why, sir," exclaimed the box-keeper, stopping the pleasant nodding of
the black feathers in her dingy bonnet, "I assure you no one has ever
doubted that!"

"We are quite agreed and we shall soon understand one another. The
story of the ghost is all humbug, isn't it? ... Well, still between
ourselves, ... it has lasted long enough."

Mme. Giry looked at the managers as though they were talking Chinese.
She walked up to Richard's table and asked, rather anxiously:

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

"Oh, you, understand quite well. In any case, you've got to
understand... And, first of all, tell us his name."

"Whose name?"

"The name of the man whose accomplice you are, Mme. Giry!"

"I am the ghost's accomplice? I? ... His accomplice in what, pray?"

"You do all he wants."

"Oh! He's not very troublesome, you know."

"And does he still tip you?"

"I mustn't complain."

"How much does he give you for bringing him that envelope?"

"Ten francs."

"You poor thing! That's not much, is it?

"Why?"

"I'll tell you that presently, Mme. Giry. Just now we should like to
know for what extraordinary reason you have given yourself body and
soul, to this ghost ... Mme. Giry's friendship and devotion are not to
be bought for five francs or ten francs."

"That's true enough ... And I can tell you the reason, sir. There's
no disgrace about it... on the contrary."

"We're quite sure of that, Mme. Giry!"

"Well, it's like this ... only the ghost doesn't like me to talk about
his business."

"Indeed?" sneered Richard.

"But this is a matter that concerns myself alone ... Well, it was in
Box Five one evening, I found a letter addressed to myself, a sort of
note written in red ink. I needn't read the letter to you sir; I know
it by heart, and I shall never forget it if I live to be a hundred!"

And Mme. Giry, drawing herself up, recited the letter with touching
eloquence:

MADAM:

1825. Mlle. Menetrier, leader of the ballet, became Marquise de Cussy.

1832. Mlle. Marie Taglioni, a dancer, became Comtesse Gilbert d