” There was a long silence. My feelings overpower me. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. Let me keep you from that man’s clutches. . “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance.
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