"Really, Henri, I am tempted to disown you this evening. But you
returned the next day?"

"Yes, but uselessly, and equally so to La Gypecienne."

"She had disappeared?"

"Like a shadow."

"But you inquired?"

"The street has few inhabitants, and no one knew her. I watched for the
servant, but he also had disappeared; however, a light which shone every
evening through the Venetian blinds consoled me by the knowledge that
she was still there. At last this disappeared; she had quitted the Rue
de Lesdiguieres, and no one knew where she had gone."

"But you found her again?"

"Chance did it. Listen: it is really strange. I was going along the Rue
de Bussy, a fortnight ago, about midnight; you know how strict the
regulations are about fire; well, I saw, not only light in the windows
of a house, but a real fire, which had broken out in the second story. I
knocked at the door, and a man appeared at the window. 'You have fire in
your house!' I cried. 'Silence! I beg; I am occupied in putting it out.'
'Shall I call the watch?' I asked. 'No! in Heaven's name, call no one!'
'But can I help you?' 'Will you? I shall be very grateful,' and he threw
me the key out of the window.