to be genuinely interested in my unsuccessful
life."

After the unpleasant scene at Djenan-el-Maqui Gillier had returned to
Paris, shut himself in, and labored almost with fury on a libretto
destined for Jacques Sennier. He had taken immense pains and trouble,
and had not spared time. At last the work had been completed, typed,
and submitted to Madame Sennier. After a week of anxious waiting Gillier
had received the libretto with the following note:

"DEAR GILLIER,--This might do very well for some unknown
genius, say Monsieur Heath, but it is no good to a man like Jacques.
Nevertheless, we believe in you still, and renew our offer. Send us
a fine libretto, _such as I know you can write_, and we will pay you
five times as much as anyone else would, on account of a royalty. We
should not mind even if _someone else_ had already tried to set it.
All we care about is to get your _best work_.
HENRIETTE SENNIER."

Gillier had torn this note up with fury. Then he had thought things over
and paid Madame Sennier a visit. It was this visit which had prompted
his return to Djenan-el-Maqui.

"But I hope it won't be unsuccessful much longer," Charmian said, with
deliberate graciousness.

"I hope so too, madame."

Something in his voice, a new tone, almost startled her. But she
continued, without any change of manner:

"We must all hope for a great success."

"We, madame?"

"You and I and my husband."

Gillier bit his moustache and looked down. A heavy gloom seemed to have
overspread him. After a moment he looked up, leaned back, as if
determined to be at his ease, and said abruptly:

"Monsieur Sennier has completed a new opera. It is to be produced at the
Metropolitan Opera House in New York some time next winter."

"Is it?"

Charmian tried to keep all expression out of her voice as she spoke.

"Since I last saw you, madame," Gillier continued, "I have managed to
get a look at the libretto."

Without knowing that she did so Charmian leaned forward quickly and
moved her hands.

"It does not approach my work, the work your husband bought from me for
only one hundred pounds, in strength and drama."

"Your libretto is splendid. Mr. Lake and I have always thought so; and
of course my husband agrees with us. But you know that."

Gillier pulled his thick moustache, looked quickly round the room, then
at his hands, which he had abruptly brough