n very pale; she trembled as if with a nervous
chill; her limbs seemed to give way, and she tottered so that Fanferlot,
thinking she was about to fall, extended his arms to catch her.

Useless precaution! Mme. Gypsy was one of those women whose inert
listlessness conceals indomitable energy; fragile-looking creatures
whose powers of endurance and resistance are unlimited; cat-like in
their soft grace and delicacy, especially cat-like in their nerves and
muscles of steel.

The dizziness caused by the shock she had received quickly passed off.
She tottered, but did not fall, and stood up looking stronger than
ever; seizing the wrist of the detective, she held it as if her delicate
little hand were a vice, and cried out:

"Explain yourself! what does all this mean? Do you know anything about
the contents of this note?"

Although Fanferlot betrayed courage in daily contending with the most
dangerous rascals, he was positively terrified by Mme. Gypsy.

"Alas!" he murmured.

"Prosper is to be arrested, accused of being a thief?"

"Yes, madame, he is accused of taking three hundred and fifty thousand
francs from the bank-safe."

"It is false, infamous, absurd!" she cried. She had dropped Fanferlot's
hand; and her fury, like that of a spoiled child, found vent in violent
actions. She tore her web-like handkerchief, and the magnificent lace on
her gown, to shreds.

"Prosper steal!" she cried; "what a stupid idea! Why should he steal? Is
he not rich?"

"M. Bertomy is not rich, madame; he has nothing but his salary."

The answer seemed to confound Mme. Gypsy.

"But," she insisted, "I have always seen him have plenty of money; not
rich--then----"

She dared not finish; but her eye met Fanferlot's, and they understood
each other.

Mme. Nina's look meant:

"He committed this robbery in order to gratify my extravagant whims."

Fanferlot's glance answered:

"Very likely, madame."

A few minutes' reflection convinced Nina that her first impression
was the correct one. Doubt fled after hovering for an instant over her
agitated mind.

"No!" she cried, "I regret to say that Prosper would never have stolen
one cent for me. One can understand a man robbing a bank to obtain means
of bestowing pleasure and luxury upon the woman he loves; but Prosper
does not love me, he never has loved me."

"Oh, fair lady!" protested the gallant and insinuating Fanferlot, "you
surely cannot mean what you say."

Her beautiful eyes