If you could only understand how recollections throng upon me. Do you remember that I posed for your “Mendiante,” for your “Violet Seller,” for your “Guilty Woman,” which won for you your first medal? And do you remember the breakfast at Ledoyen's on Varnishing Day? There were more than twenty-five at a table intended for ten. What follies we committed, especially that little, little--what did he call himself--I mean that little comic fellow, who was always making portraits which resembled no one? Oh, yes, Tavernier! And you took me home with you to your studio, where you had two great manikins which frightened me so, and I called to you, and you came in to reassure me. Oh, how heavenly all that was! Do you remember? [_Laughs again_.] Oh, if that life could only begin over again! [_Cries suddenly_.] Ah, what pain! [_To_ Jean, _who is going for the doctor_.] No, stay, stay! [_Silence. A sudden change comes over her face_.] See, Jean, what glorious weather! If you like, we will take the baby for a sail on a river steamboat; that will be so jolly! I love those little steamboats; they are so pretty. They glide over the water quickly and without noise. Now that I am your wife, I can assert myself--I am armed. Darling, I never thought that you would marry me. And look at our little one--how pretty he is, and how he grows! He is called Jean after you. And I--I have my two little Jeans--mine--altogether mine! You don't know how happy I am. And the little one walks to-day for the first time! [_Laughs aloud, with her arms stretched out, pointing to the child which she thinks is before her_.] JEAN [_weeps_] Musotte! Musotte! Don't you know me? MUSOTTE Indeed I know you! Am I not your wife? Kiss me, darling. Kiss me, my little one. JEAN [_takes her in his arms, weeping and repeating_] Musotte! Musotte! [Musotte _rises upon her couch, and with a gesture to_ Jean _points to the cradle, toward which he goes, nodding “Yes, yes,” with his head. When_ Jean _reaches the cradle,_ Musotte, _who has raised herself upon her hands, falls lifeless upon the long steamer-chair._ Jean, _frightened, calls out_] Pellerin! Pellerin! SCENE V. (_The same:_ Pellerin, Mme. Flache, _and_ La Babin, _enter quickly_ R.) PELLERIN [_who has gone swiftly to_ Musotte, _feels her pulse and listens at the heart_] Her heart is not beating! Give me a mirror, Madame Flache. JEAN My God! [Mme. Flache _gives a hand-mirror to_ Pellerin, _who holds it before the lips of_ Musotte, _Pause_.] PELLERIN [_in a low voice_] She is dead! JEAN [_takes the dead woman's hand and kisses it fondly, his voice choked with emotion_] Farewell, my dear little Musotte! To think that a moment ago you were speaking to me--a moment ago you were looking at me, you saw me, and now--all is over! PELLERIN [_goes to_ Jean _and takes him by the shoulder_] Now, you must go at once. Go! You have nothing more to do here. Your duty is over. JEAN [_rises_] I go. Farewell, poor little Musotte!