"Yes, indeed, M. Rodolph."
"At St. Lazare?"
"She was leaving the prison in company with an elderly female."
"It cannot be," exclaimed Rodolph, in extreme astonishment; "you must be mistaken."
"I assure you it was herself, M. Rodolph."
"You really must be in error."
"Oh, no, I was not mistaken; although she was dressed as a country girl I recollected her again directly. She looked beautiful as ever, though pale; and she had just the same melancholy look she used to have."
"How very strange that she should be in Paris without my having heard of it! I can scarcely credit it. And what had she been doing at St. Lazare?"
"I suppose, like myself, she had been to see some one confined there; but I had not time to ask her many questions, for the person who was with her seemed so very cross, and to be in such a hurry! Then it seems you know the Goualeuse as well as myself, M. Rodolph?"
"I do, certainly."