losing their time. When, after the
Commune, I settled with them the manner in which I would discharge
my debt towards them, having a just estimate of their worth, I
made them write out and sign our agreement. Being in the right, I
could resist them, and was resisting them when you threw them those
hundred and fifty francs. Having laid hands upon them, they had the
pretension to keep them. That's what I could not suffer. Not being
able to recover them by main force, I went at once to the commissary
of police. He was luckily at his office. He is an honest man, who
already, once before, helped me out of a scrape. He listened to me
kindly, and was moved by my explanations. Notwithstanding the
lateness of the hour, he put on his overcoat, and came with me to
see our landlord. After compelling them to return me your money, he
signified to them to observe strictly our agreement, under penalty
of incurring his utmost severity."

Maxence was wonderstruck.

"How could you dare?" he said.

"Wasn't I in the right?"

"Oh, a thousand times yes! Still--"

"What? Should my right be less respected because I am but a woman?
And, because I have no one to protect me, am I outside the law, and
condemned in advance to suffer the iniquitous fancies of every
scoundrel? No, thank Heaven! Henceforth I shall feel easy. People
like the Fortins, who live off I know not what shameful traffic, have
too much to fear from the police to dare to molest me further."

The resentment of the insult could be read in her great black eyes;
and a bitter disgust contracted her lips.

"Besides," she added, "the commissary had no need of my explanations
to understand what abject inspirations the Fortins were following.
The wretches had in their pocket the wages of their infamy. In
refusing me my key, in throwing me out in the street at ten o'clock
at night, they hoped to drive me to seek the assistance of the base
coward who paid their odious treason. And we know the price which
men demand for the slightest service they render to a woman."

Maxence turned pale. The idea flashed upon his mind that it was to
him, perhaps, that these last words were addressed.

"Ah, I swear it!" he exclaimed, "it is without after-thought that
I tried to help you. You do not owe me any thanks even."

"I do not thank you any the less, though," she said gently, "and
from the bottom of my heart."

"It was so little!"

"Intention alone makes the value of