“Come to the Odéon at two o’clock,” said Duquesnel, by way of leave- taking, “and I will introduce you to my partner. I ought to say it the other way round, according to society etiquette,” he added, laughing, “but we are talking _théâtre_” (shop). He came a few steps down the staircase with me, and stayed there leaning over the balustrade to wish me good-bye. At two o’clock precisely I was at the Odéon, and had to wait an hour. I began to grind my teeth, and only the remembrance of my promise to Camille Doucet prevented me from going away. Finally Duquesnel appeared and took me across to the manager’s office. “You will now see the other ogre,” he said, and I pictured to myself the other ogre as charming as his partner. I was therefore greatly disappointed on seeing a very ugly little man, whom I recognised as Chilly. He eyed me up and down most impolitely, and pretended not to recognise me. He signed to me to sit down, and without a word handed me a pen and showed me where to sign my name on the paper before me. Madame Guérard interposed, laying her hand on mine. “Do not sign without reading it,” she said. “Are you Mademoiselle’s mother?” he asked, looking up. “No,” she said, “but it is just as though I were.” “Well, yes, you are right. Read it quickly,” he continued, “and then sign or leave it alone, but be quick.” I felt the colour coming into my face, for this man was odious. Duquesnel whispered to me, “There’s no ceremony about him, but he’s a good fellow; don’t take offence.” I signed my contract and handed it to his ugly partner. “You know,” he remarked, “He is responsible for you. I should not upon any account have engaged you.” “And if you had been alone, Monsieur,” I answered, “I should not have signed, so we are quits.” I went away at once, and hurried to my mother’s to tell her, for I knew this would be a great joy for her. Then, that very day, I set off with _mon petit Dame_ to buy everything necessary for furnishing my dressing- room.