"Monsieur, this gift comes from one who has no husband and no son to give to the empire."
"To whom shall I make out the receipt, and for how much, Madame?" asked the clerk; but the old lady was already out of the room, and going down the steps much faster than one would expect a person of her age to be able to do.
Once outside Fifi stepped into a dark archway, from which she emerged, a minute later, wearing her own bonnet and red cloak and her own skirt. All of Angéline's paraphernalia, together with the white wig, was squeezed into a bundle which Fifi cleverly concealed under her cloak. The basket she had tossed down an open cellar under the archway.
She called a closed cab, and stuffing her bundle under the seat, ordered the cabman to drive her in a direction which she knew would take her past the bank. She had the exquisite pleasure of seeing half a dozen clerks rush distractedly out, inquiring frantically if any one had seen in the neighborhood an old lady with a limp, a green veil and a basket. Fifi stopped her cab long enough to get a description of herself from one of the wildest-looking of the clerks.
