It was with a childlike satisfaction that Balzac showed me this sitting room set in a square salon, and by necessity leaving empty spaces at the angles of the circular half. When I had admired the stylish splendors of this room sufficiently, splendors whose luxury would seem less today, Balzac opened a secret door and made me enter a shadowy passage that led around the semicircle; at one of the corners was placed a narrow iron bed, a kind of working camp bed; in the other, there was a table "with everything that is necessary to write," as M. Scribe said in his stage directions: it was there that Balzac took refuge to be free of all intrusions and all investigations. Many thicknesses of fabric and paper padded the wall to block all noise from both sides. To be sure that no sounds could pass into the salon from outside, Balzac asked me to return to the room and shout as loudly as I could; one could still hear a little; it was necessary to add a few sheets of gray paper to entirely block the sound. These mysterious actions intrigued me immensely and I demanded to know their motivation. Balzac gave me a reason that Stendhal would have approved, but modern prudery prevents my repeating. The fact is that he was already developing in his mind the scene of Henry de Marsay and Paquita, and he was anxious to know if the cries of the victim in the salon could reach the ears of the other inhabitants of the house. He gave me a splendid dinner in the same sitting room, for which he lit with his own hand all of the candles on the silver arms, as well as the lantern and the candelabras. The guests were the Marquis de B. and the painter L. B.: although very sober and abstemious by habit, Balzac from time to time did not fear to "indulge in a little good cheer"; he ate with a jovial gourmandism that inspired the appetite, and he drank in the manner of Pantagruel. Four bottles of the white wine of Vouvray, one of the headiest known, did not affect his powerful brain and gave only a greater sparkle to his gaiety. What good stories he told us at dessert! Rabelais, Beroalde de Verville, Eutrapel, le Pogge, Straparole, the Queen of Navarre and all of the doctors of the happy science would have recognized in him a disciple and a master! Characteristic feature! At this splendid feast provided by Chevet there was no bread! But when one has excess then what is the point of necessities? After dinner, our Amphytrion led us to the Italians in a superb presentation. The evening was already getting late, but Balzac did not want to miss "the descent of the staircase" spectacle, which, according to him, was eminently instructive. Weighed down by the good food and fine wines, enveloped in the warm atmosphere of the room, I should say that the three of us slept the sleep of the just and only awakened to offer our final compliments. Balzac was quite amused by this somnolent trio.