The agents, who had bought two hundred thousand francs’ worth of tickets beforehand, also refused to regard the affair as binding on them if we did not go. Mayer came to see me in profound despair, and told me all about it. “We shall have to break our contract with the Comédie if you don’t come,” he said, “for the business cannot go through.” Frightened at the consequences of my bad temper, I ran to see Perrin, and told him that after the consultation I had just had with Mayer I understood the involuntary injury I should be causing to the Théâtre Français and to my comrades, and I told him I was ready to go under any conditions. The committee was holding a meeting. Perrin asked me to wait, and shortly after he came back to me. Croizette and I had been appointed Sociétaires with one entire share in the profits each, not only for London, but for always. Everybody had done their duty. Perrin, very much touched, took both my hands and drew me to him. “Oh, the good and untamable little creature!” We embraced, and peace was again concluded between us. But it could not last long, for five days after this reconciliation, about nine o’clock in the evening, M. Perrin was announced at my house. I had some friends to dinner, so I went to receive him in the hall. He held out to me a paper. “Read that,” said he. And I read in an English newspaper, the _Times_, this paragraph: DRAWING-ROOM COMEDIES OF MLLE. SARAH BERNHARDT, UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF SIR JULIUS BENEDICT.—“The _répertoire_ of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt is composed of comedies, proverbs, one-act plays, and monologues, written specially for her and one or two artistes of the Comédie Française. These comedies are played without accessories or scenery, and can be adapted both in London and Paris to the _matinées_ and _soirées_ of the best society. For all details and conditions please communicate with Mr. Jarrett (secretary of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt) at Her Majesty’s Theatre.” As I was reading the last lines it dawned on me that Jarrett, learning that I was certainly coming to London, had begun to advertise me. I explained this frankly to Perrin. “What objection is there,” I said, “to my making use of my evenings to earn money? This business has been proposed to me.” “I am not complaining—it’s the committee.” “That is too bad!” I cried, and calling for my secretary, I said, “Give me Delaunay’s letter that I gave you yesterday.” He brought it out of one of his numerous pockets and gave it to Perrin to read. “Would you care to come and play _La Nuit d’Octobre_ at Lady Dudley’s on Thursday, June 5? We are offered 5000 francs for us two. Kind regards.—DELAUNAY.” “Let me have this letter,” said the manager, visibly annoyed. “No, I will not. But you may tell Delaunay that I spoke to you about his offer.”