He explained to me in his letter that on account of my extreme youth—the importance of the rôle—such responsibility for such young shoulders—as Mme. Favart had recovered from her illness, it was wiser, etc. I finished reading the letter through blinding tears, but very soon anger took the place of grief. I rushed back again and up to the manager’s office. He could not see me just then, but I said I would wait. At the end of an hour, thoroughly impatient, taking no notice of the office boy and the secretary, who wanted to prevent my entering, I opened the door of M. Thierry’s office and walked in. I was desperate, and all that anger with injustice and fury with falsehood could inspire me with, I let him have in a stream of eloquence only interrupted by my sobs. The manager gazed at me in bewilderment. He could not conceive of such daring and such violence in a girl so young. When at last, thoroughly exhausted, I sank down on an armchair, he tried to calm me, but all in vain. “I will leave at once,” I said. “Give me back my engagement and I will send you back mine.” Finally, tired of argument and persuasion, he called his secretary in, gave him the necessary orders, and the latter soon brought in my engagement. “Here is your mother’s signature, mademoiselle. I leave you free to bring it me back within forty-eight hours. After that time if I do not receive it I shall consider that you are no longer a member of the theater. But, believe me, you are acting unwisely. Think it over within the next forty-eight hours.” I did not answer but went out of his office. That very evening I sent back to M. Thierry the engagement bearing his signature and tore up the one with that of my mother. I had left Molière’s Theater and was not to re-enter it until twelve years later. CHAPTER VIII CASTLES IN SPAIN This proceeding of mine was certainly violently decisive, and it completely upset my home life. I was not happy from this time forth among my own people, as I was continually being blamed for my violence. Irritating remarks with a double meaning were constantly being made by my aunt and my little sisters. My godfather, whom I had once for all requested to mind his own business, no longer dared to attack me openly, but he influenced my mother against me. There was no longer any peace for me except at Mme. Guerard’s, and so I was constantly with her. I enjoyed helping her in her domestic affairs. She taught me to make cakes, chocolate, and scrambled eggs. All this gave me something else to think about, and I soon recovered my gayety. One morning there was something very mysterious about my mother. She kept looking at the clock and seemed uneasy because my godfather, who lunched and dined with us every day, had not arrived. “It’s very strange,” my mother said, “for last night after whist he said he should be with us this morning before luncheon. It’s very strange indeed.”