Paris would never be the same again.
Anarchy had swept across it, razing many buildings and crushing out not a few of those qualities of good taste and feeling which had raised Frenchmen to the summit of civilisation before the Empire fell.
John Turner was in good humour, for he had just learnt that, owing to the wit and nerve of one man, the Bank of France had stood untouched.
With it was saved the house of Turner & Co., of Paris and London.

The moment my friend's affairs were on a safe footing he placed himself at my service to help with the Vicomtesse de Clericy's more complicated difficulties.

I was glad to avail myself of the assistance of one whose name was a by-word for rectitude and stability.

Here, at all events, I had a colleague whose word could not be doubted by Isabella, of whose father John Turner had been a friend as well as of my own.
"Heard any more of Miste ?" inquired Turner, while the train stood at Ipswich station; for he was much too easy-going to shout conversation during the progress of our journey.
"Sander writes that he has nearly caught him twice, and singularly enough has done better since you gave Mr.Devar his _conge_." "Nothing singular about that.

Devar was in the swindle and kept Miste advised of your movements.