The old, old story: a comfortable home and a good husband; even a child or two; a scoundrel, a scandal, an elopement, and the inevitable desertion.

Left without a dollar in the streets of Paris.
She was under convoy of a noted procuress.
"A duke or the morgue," she whimpered, "in six months." Three months sufficed.

They dragged all that remained of her out of the Seine, and then the whole of the pitiful disgrace and tragedy came out.
V If ever I indite a volume to be entitled Adventures in Paris it will contain not a line to feed any prurient fancy, but will embrace the record of many little journeys between the Coiffeur and the Marche des Fleurs, with maybe an excursion among the cemeteries and the restaurants.
Each city is as one makes it for himself.

Paris has contributed greatly to my appreciation, and perhaps my knowledge, of history and literature and art and life.

I have seen it in all its aspects; under the empire, when the Due de Morny was king of the Bourse and Mexico was to make every Frenchman rich; after the commune and the siege, when the Hotel de Ville was in ruins, the palace of the Tuileries still aflame, the column gone from the Place Vendome, and everything a blight and waste; and I have marked it rise from its ashes, grandly, proudly, and like a queen come to her own again, resume its primacy as the only complete metropolis in all the universe.
There is no denying it.