“Thus it came about, that, two years later, no one would have recognized the lean, wretched-looking vagabond of the suburbs in this fresh, rosy girl, with the lustrous eyes and the modest mien, whom they called in the house the ‘pretty artist in the fifth story.’

“And yet the change was only on the surface.

“Sarah was already too thoroughly corrupted, when the good German picked her up, to be capable of being entirely changed.  He thought he had infused his own rough honesty into her veins:  he had only taught her a new vice,—­hypocrisy.

“The soul remained corrupt; and all the charms with which it was outwardly adorned became only so many base allurements, like those beautiful flowers which unfold their splendor on the surface of bottomless swamps, and thus lead those whom they attract to miserable death.

“At that time, however, Sarah did not yet possess that marvellous self-control which became one of her great charms hereafter; and at the end of two years she could endure this peaceful atmosphere no longer; she grew homesick after sin.

“As she was already a very fair musician, and her voice, trained by a great master, possessed amazing power, she urged her old teacher to procure her an engagement at one of the theatres.  He refused in a manner which made it clear to her that he would never change his mind on that subject.  He wanted to secure to his pupil one of those debuts which are an apotheosis; and he had decided, as he told her, that she should not appear in public till she had reached the full perfection of her voice and her talent,—­certainly not before her nineteenth or twentieth year.

“That meant she should wait three or four years longer,—­a century!

“In former days Sarah would not have hesitated a moment; she would have run away.

“But education had changed her ideas.  She was quite able now to reflect and to calculate.  She asked herself where she could go, alone, without money, without friends, and what she should do, and what would become of her.

“She knew what destitution meant, and she was afraid of it now.

“When she thought of the life her mother had led,—­a long series of nights spent in orgies, and of days without bread; that life of distress and disgrace, when she depended on the whims of a good-for-nothing, or the suspicions of a police constable,—­Sarah felt the cold perspiration break out on her temples.

“She wanted her liberty; but she did not want it without money.  Vice attracted her irresistibly; but it was gorgeous vice, seated in a carriage, and bespattering with mud the poor, honest women who had to walk on foot, while it was envied by the crowd, and worshipped by the foolish.  She remained, therefore, and studied hard.

“Perhaps, in spite of everything, in spite of herself and her execrable instincts, Sarah might have become a great artist, if the old German had not been taken from her by a terrible accident.