ndering at Nana's total eclipse. People
were asking for her, and old friends were pining. And with that he grew
quite paternal and ended by sermonizing.

"Frankly speaking, between you and me, my dear, the thing's getting
stupid. One can understand a mash, but to go to that extent, to be
trampled on like that and to get nothing but knocks! Are you playing up
for the 'Virtue Prizes' then?"

She listened to him with an embarrassed expression. But when he told her
about Rose, who was triumphantly enjoying her conquest of Count Muffat,
a flame came into her eyes.

"Oh, if I wanted to--" she muttered.

As became an obliging friend, he at once offered to act as intercessor.
But she refused his help, and he thereupon attacked her in an opposite
quarter.

He informed her that Bordenave was busy mounting a play of Fauchery's
containing a splendid part for her.

"What, a play with a part!" she cried in amazement. "But he's in it and
he's told me nothing about it!"

She did not mention Fontan by name. However, she grew calm again
directly and declared that she would never go on the stage again.
Labordette doubtless remained unconvinced, for he continued with smiling
insistence.

"You know, you need fear nothing with me. I get your Muffat ready for
you, and you go on the stage again, and I bring him to you like a little
dog!"

"No!" she cried decisively.

And she left him. Her heroic conduct made her tenderly pitiful toward
herself. No blackguard of a man would ever have sacrificed himself like
that without trumpeting the fact abroad. Nevertheless, she was struck by
one thing: Labordette had given her exactly the same advice as Francis
had given her. That evening when Fontan came home she questioned him
about Fauchery's piece. The former had been back at the Varietes for two
months past. Why then had he not told her about the part?

"What part?" he said in his ill-humored tone. "The grand lady's part,
maybe? The deuce, you believe you've got talent then! Why, such a
part would utterly do for you, my girl! You're meant for comic
business--there's no denying it!"

She was dreadfully wounded. All that evening he kept chaffing her,
calling her Mlle Mars. But the harder he hit the more bravely she
suffered, for she derived a certain bitter satisfaction from this heroic
devotion of hers, which rendered her very great and very loving in her
own eyes. Ever since she had gone with other men in order to supply
his wants her