experience she had was not lost upon her; she remembered that, once in her life, she had nearly been a great loser, by having sold five-franc pieces for a hundred and four sous. "A burnt child dreads the fire."
This meeting with the Bohémiens was almost miraculous; but in the course of eighteen years that I have been attached to the police, it has happened more than once that I have been casually brought in contact with persons whom in my early days I had known.
A propos of occurrences of this kind, I cannot resist the desire of mentioning in this chapter one of the thousand absurd complaints which it was my lot to receive daily; this in particular procured for me a very singular renewal of acquaintance.
One morning whilst I was occupied in drawing up a report, I was told that a lady of respectable appearance desired to see me; she has, was added, to speak with you on an affair of importance. I ordered that she should be admitted instantly. She entered.
"I have to beg pardon for disturbing you; you are Monsieur Vidocq? It is to Monsieur Vidocq that I have the honour of addressing myself?"
"Yes, madame; and in what can I be of service to you?"
"Oh, you can aid me materially, sir; you can restore to me appetite and sleep. I neither rest nor eat.—Ah, how wretched is it to be gifted with excessive sensibility. Ah! sir, how I pity persons of our sentiment! I swear to you that it is the most distressing qualification that Heaven can bestow!—He was so well brought up, so interesting.—If you had known him you could not have forborne loving him—Poor dear!
"But, madame, condescend to explain: you may perhaps suffer by a causeless delay, and lose precious time."
"He was my only comfort—"
"Well, madame, what is it?"
"I have not power to tell you."
She put her hand into her reticule, and thence pro-
