sign them whenever you may like legally to be the owner. Is it necessary to add that you owe nothing to anyone for all that, and that you will remain absolute mistress of your actions? To-morrow I shall pass the day in that house, to assure myself that all there is in a fit state to receive you; and I shall never appear there again until you tell me yourself to come—or to remain there.

(Lionnette takes the key that Nourvady has laid upon the table while talking; rises, and goes to throw it out of the open window; passes before Nourvady in going to rejoin Godler and Trévelé.)

Nourvady (while she passes in front of him).

That window looks upon your garden, Countess, not upon the street. In a garden a key can be picked up again.

(He bows, and leaves her, to take his departure.)

Lionnette (in a low voice).

The insolent fellow!

Jane (entering, to Lionnette).

Master Raoul will not go to bed, Madam.

Lionnette.

Very well; I am coming.

(She goes out by the door from which Jane has spoken to her.)

Trévelé (to Godler).

Again running away! that is too strong. This time, let us go too.

Nourvady.

No, remain; I think you will be wanted here. Good bye. (He goes away.)

Scene III.

GODLER, TRÉVELÉ.

Trévelé (to Godler, while eating a cake).

I assure you that Nourvady is a personage apart. Listen now; let us eat all the cakes, drink all the lemonade, and during that time you can solve the enigma, for at length you ought to know what is going on in this house, you who have always been a friend of the Marchioness of Quansas. It is said even....

Godler (after looking around him).

In 1853.

Trévelé.

You are decided?

Godler.

In 1853.

Trévelé.

Why did you never tell it?

Godler.

In 1853 there was a Madam Duranton, who kept a shop in the rue Traversière.

Trévelé.

Where may the rue Traversière be?

Godler.

It was a little cross street, of compromised fame, leading from the rue St. Honoré to the rue Richelieu. Madame Duranton, a widow—one could not be more a widow—sold left-off clothes. You can imagine the rest....

Trévelé.

Yes, I see, I see; make haste.

Godler.

Madame Duranton, at whose house two or three friends and I went sometimes to pass the evening, and who gave us sometimes cider and chesnuts in her little back shop....

Trévelé.

In 1853?

Godler.

In 1853.

Trévelé.

How old were you?

Godler.

I was 39 years old.

Trévelé.

You are old, then?

Godler.

I am 66.

Trévelé.

You don't look that age.

Godler.

Because I get myself up very well.

Trévelé.

What a good fellow! Go on.

Godler.

Would you like us to make a bet?

Trévelé.

No, you would gain it; Florimond has told it to me.

Godler (who is sitting down).

Very well; go and shut the window, and give me something to drink.

Trévelé.

Go on.

Godler.

Madame Duranton had a daughter.

Trévelé.

To whom you made love?

Godler.

To whom we all made love, without any good intention—you can understand. The young girl, then between 18 and 19 years old, was a beautiful creature, with naturally golden hair, like women have artificially now-a-days, with violet-blue eyes, cheeks like a rose of Bengal, and teeth and lips resembling almonds between two halves of a cherry.

(During this time Godler from time to time arranges his whiskers, and a lock of hair which falls over his forehead, with a little comb that he takes out of his pocket.)

Trévelé.

One could almost wish to taste thereof. You are a poet!

Godler.

That I had from my youth. At that time....

Trévelé.

In your youth?

Godler.

No, in 1853, there were a king and queen....

Trévelé.

Who reigned....

Godler.

Exactly.

Trévelé.

Happy time! Where did they reign?

Godler.

At Bagdad.

Trévelé.

Thank you.

Godler.

This king and this queen had an only son, who was to succeed them. This son, 23 years old, took much too seriously his part of heir-presumptive. But what was the use of having a crown, if, in his turn, he was not to have an heir to leave it to? However, nothing in the young prince indicated the least inclination towards love, legitimate or otherwise.

Trévelé.

He was not like you.

Godler.

No, he was not like me.

Trévelé.

Go on.

Godler.

Always study; always reflection; always indifference.

Trévelé.

A strange prince!

Godler.

The ambassadors opened negotiation upon negotiation uselessly with foreign courts in view of a political alliance. Several young princesses of surrounding countries, of Hindostan, of Persia, and even of Europe....

Trévelé.

How well you relate a thing!

Godler.

Were waiting full-dressed, their hair well-dressed and splendidly perfumed, for the king of Bagdad to ask their hand for his son. The telegraph replied always: Wait! Wait!

Trévelé.

Go on quickly.

Godler.

A