The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre.
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