re of compelling
to be hers for all time, tied to her by its helpless infirmity, too
suffering and disfigured to be lured from its captivity. And so, in
accordance with her philosophy of life, the widow, by a blow in the pit
of the stomach with a knuckle-duster, was to bring down her bird which
henceforth would be tended and cared for by "the Charmer" to her own
satisfaction and the admiration of all beholders.

For some reason, the natural reluctance of Gaudry, or perhaps a feeling
of compunction in the heart of the widow, this plan was not put into
immediate execution. Possibly she hesitated before adopting a plan more
cruel, more efficacious. Her hesitation did not last long.

With the dawn of the year 1877 the vigilant apprehension of the widow
was roused by the tone of M. de Saint Pierre's letters. He wrote from
his home in the country, "I cannot bear leaving you, and I don't
mean to. We will live together." But he adds that he is depressed by
difficulties with his family, "not about money or business but of a kind
he can only communicate to her verbally." To the widow it was clear that
these difficulties must relate to the subject of marriage. The character
of Georges was not a strong one; sooner or later he might yield to the
importunities of his family; her reign would be ended, a modest and
insufficient pension the utmost she could hope for. She had passed the
meridian of her life as a charmer of men, her health was giving way, she
was greedy, ambitious, acquisitive. In January she asked her nephew, who
worked as a gilder, to get her some vitriol for cleaning her copper. He
complied with her request.

During Jeanne de la Cour's brief and unsuccessful appearance as an
actress she had taken part in a play with the rather cumbrous title, Who
Puts out the Eyes must Pay for Them. The widow may have forgotten
this event; its occurrence so many years before may have been merely
a sinister coincidence. But the incident of the ballet-dancer and her
sightless lover was fresh in her mind.

Early in January the widow wrote to Georges, who was in the country, and
asked him to take her to the masked ball at the Opera on the 13th. Her
lover was rather surprised at her request, nor did he wish to appear
with her at so public a gathering. "I don't understand," he writes, "why
you are so anxious to go to the Opera. I can't see any real reason for
your wanting to tire yourself out at such a disreputable gathering.
However, if