Of a poet's usual equipment I now had the attic; of the possessions of the happy man, I now had a loft under the tiles. Better than all these things, I was only twenty! I cleared the distance between the place des Italiens and the rue Pigale in no time. I was longing to tell Adolphe that I was installed at the Duc d'Orléans'; that I possessed a desk, paper, pens, ink, sealing-wax, in the Palais-Royal; four chairs, a table, a bed and a room papered yellow in the place des Italiens. Adolphe very sincerely shared my delight. M. de Leuven, chewing his tooth-pick, gently ridiculed my enthusiasm. Madame de Leuven, the most perfect of women, rejoiced in the joy my mother would feel. I was invited to fix a regular day on which I should dine at M. de Leuven's. On that day my place should always be laid: it should be an institution in perpetuity. In perpetuity! What a great word!--one so often uttered in life, but one which really exists only in death! "You are condemned to perpetual imprisonment, monseigneur," said my dear and good friend Nogent Saint-Laurent to Prince Louis-Bonaparte. "How long does perpetuity last in France, Monsieur Saint-Laurent?" asked the prince. His perpetuity, as a matter of fact, lasted at Ham for five years--two years less than the perpetuity of M. de Peyronnet and M. de Polignac. My perpetuity at M. de Leuven's table lasted exactly as long as that of Prince Louis at Ham. I will tell how it came to cease, and I might as well admit at once that the fault was not M. de Leuven's, nor Madame de Leuven's, nor Adolphe's. It was arranged that I should dine there on the following day to make the acquaintance of the Arnault family: this was to be an extra dinner. It can be realised how preoccupied I was, throughout the twenty-two hours that had to elapse before we sat down to the table, with the thought of dining with the author of _Marius à Minturnes_, the man who had written _Régulus._ I announced the great news to Ernest and to Lassagne. Ernest seemed quite unmoved by it, and Lassagne was only indifferently interested. I badgered Lassagne to know why he was so cold in matters concerning such celebrities. He answered simply, "I am not of the same political views as those gentlemen, and I do not think much of their literary value either." I stood astounded. "But," I asked, "have you not read _Germanicus_?" "Yes; but it is very bad!" "Have you not read _Régulus_?" "Yes; but it is very poor!" I lowered my head, more astonished than ever. Then, finally, I struggled to rise from under the weight of the anathema. "But why are these plays so successful?" "Talma acts in them ..." "The reputation of these men ..." "They bring that about themselves through their newspapers!... When M. de Jouy, M. Arnault or M. Lemercier produces a play in which Talma takes no part, you will see it will only run ten nights." Again I hung down my head.