however, must not be abruptly changed. Suppose Rosas should
take a sudden fancy to fly off again! Besides, she had mutual interests
with the minister, there was an account to be settled.

"The Gochard paper?--Bah! he will pay it. More-ever, I am not involved
in that."

Suddenly she thought that she would act foolishly if she did not go
where she pleased. Sulpice might think what he pleased. She got her maid
to dress her hair.

"Madame is going to the theatre?"

"Yes, Justine. To the Renaissance!"

She was greatly amused at the theatre, and was radiant with pleasure.
She was the object of many glances, and felt delighted at being alone.
One of the characters in the operetta was a duchess whose adventures
afforded the audience much diversion. She abandoned herself to her
dreams, her thoughts wandering far from the theatre, the footlights and
the actors, to the distant orange groves yonder.

During an entr'acte some one knocked at the door of her box. She turned
around in surprise. It was Jouvenet, the Prefect of Police, who came to
greet her in a very gallant fashion. The prefect--he had gained at the
palais in former days, the title of _L'Avocat Pathelin_,--with
insinuating and wheedling manners, hastened to pay his meed of respect
to Marianne when he met her. There was no necessity to stand on ceremony
with him. He knew all her secrets. Such a man, more-ever, must be
treated prudently, as he can make himself useful. Never had Jouvenet
spoken to her of Vaudrey, he was too politic in matters of state. But as
a man who knows that everything in this world is transient, he skilfully
maintained his place in the ranks, considering that a Prefect of Police
might not be at all unlikely to succeed a President of the Council.

Marianne permitted him to talk, accepted all his gallantries as she
might have done bonbons, and with a woman's wit kept him at a distance
without wounding his vanity.

Jouvenet with the simple purpose of showing her that he was
well-informed, asked her, stroking his whiskers as he did so, if she
often saw the Duc de Rosas. What a charming man the duke was! And while
the young woman watched him as if to guess his thoughts, he smiled at
her.

The prefect, not wishing to appear too persistent, changed the
conversation with the remark:

"Ah! there is one of our old friends ogling you!"

"An old friend?"

It was in fact Guy de Lissac who was standing at the balcony training
his glass upon the box