Octave Feuillet was appealed to, and he got up in his turn. “I grant that Mademoiselle Croizette is very beautiful in her moon effect. Mademoiselle Sarah Bernhardt is ideal too, with her ray of moonlight. I want the moon therefore for both of them.” Perrin could not control his anger. There was a discussion between the author and the director, followed by others between the artistes, and between the door-keeper and the journalists who were questioning him. The rehearsal was interrupted. I declared that I would not play the part if I did not have my moon. For the next two days I received no notice of another rehearsal, but through Croizette I heard that they were trying my _rôle_ of Berthe privately. They had given it to a young woman whom we had nicknamed “the Crocodile,” because she followed all the rehearsals just as that animal follows boats—she was always hoping to snatch up some _rôle_ that might happen to be thrown overboard. Octave Feuillet refused to accept the change of artistes, and he came himself to fetch me, accompanied by Delaunay, who had negotiated matters. “It’s all settled,” he said, kissing my hands; “there will be a moon for both of you.” The first night was a triumph both for Croizette and for me. The party strife between the two clans waxed warmer and warmer, and this added to our success and amused us both immensely, for Croizette was always a delightful friend and a loyal comrade. She worked for her own ends, but never against any one else. After _Le Sphinx_ I played a pretty piece in one act by a young pupil of the Ecole Polytechnique, Louis Denayrouse, _La Belle Paule._ This author has now become a renowned scientific man, and has renounced poetry. I had begged Perrin to give me a month’s holiday, but he refused energetically, and compelled me to take part in the rehearsals of _Zaïre_ during the trying months of June and July, and, in spite of my reluctance, announced the first performance for August 6. That year it was fearfully hot in Paris. I believe that Perrin, who could not tame me alive, had, without really any bad intention, but by pure autocracy, the desire to tame me dead. Doctor Parrot went to see him, and told him that my state of weakness was such that it would be positively dangerous for me to act during the trying heat. Perrin would hear nothing of it. Then, furious at the obstinacy of this intellectual _bourgeois_, I swore I would play on to the death.