“Nothing—nothing can ever take the place of this last act of ‘Adrienne Lecouvreur’ at the Comédie. Ah, she should have stayed at the Comédie! Yes, I come back to my litany! I cannot help it! We shall lose as much as she will. Yes, I know that we can say Mlle. Dudlay is left to us. Oh, she will always stay with us! I cannot help saying it—What a pity! What a pity!” And eight days after, on the 7th June, he wrote in his theatrical chronicle, on the first performance of “Froufrou”: “I do not think that the emotion at the theater has ever been so profound. There are, in the dramatic art, exceptional times when the _artistes_ are transported out of themselves, carried above themselves and compelled to obey this inward ‘demon,’ (_I_ should have said god,) who whispered to Corneille his immortal verses. “‘Well,’ said I to Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, after the play, ‘this is an evening which will open to you, if you wish, the doors of the Comédie Française!’ ‘Do not speak of it,’ said she to me! We will not speak of it. But what a pity! What a pity!” CHAPTER XXIV PREPARATIONS FOR AMERICA My success in “Froufrou” was so marked that it filled the void left by Coquelin, who, after having signed, with the consent of Perrin, with Messrs. Mayer and Hollingshead, declared that he could not keep his engagements. It was a nasty trick of Jarnac’s by which Perrin hoped to injure my London performances. He had previously sent Got to me to ask officially if I would not come back to the Comédie. He said I should be permitted to make my American tour and that everything would be arranged on my return. But he should not have sent Got. He should have sent Worms or _Le petit père Franchise_—Delaunay. The one might have persuaded me by his affectionate reasoning, and the other by the falsity of arguments presented with such grace that it would have been difficult to refuse. Got declared that I should be only too happy to come back to the Comédie on my return from America; “for you know,” he added, “you know, my little one, that you will die in that country. And if you come back you will perhaps be only too glad to return to the Comédie Française, for you will be in a bad state of health, and it will take some time before you are right again. Believe me, sign, and it is not we who will benefit by that, but you!” “I thank you,” answered I, “but I prefer to choose my hospital myself on my return. And now you can go and leave me in peace.” I fancy I said: “Get out!” That evening he was present at a performance of “Froufrou” and came to my dressing-room and said: “You had better sign, believe me! And come back to commence with ‘Froufrou’! I will promise you a happy return!” I refused and finished my performances in London without Coquelin.