Clarisse comes in; her father has nothing whatever the matter with him! but his credit is on the point of being destroyed by bankruptcy. He needs a hundred thousand crowns to save him. Valdeja offers them. But Darcey will not allow a stranger to pay the debts of his family: he puts the hundred thousand crowns at the disposition of Clarisse's father. Let us pass on to the following scene and we shall see if Adèle d'Hervey--poor Adèle, against whom there has been this outcry because she was a respectable woman!--is not a model of virtue (_rosière_[1]) compared to Adèle Darcey. Note, particularly, that our confrère Scribe, author of _Dix ans de la vie d'une femme_ and of _Héloise et Abeilard,_ is one of the warmest partizans for a dramatic censorship. Consult the archives of the State Commission oh this point. Further, we will try ourselves to procure these archives, and there will be found stated our three opinions: Eugène Scribe's, Victor Hugo's and that of Alexandre Dumas--a matter not without a certain amount of interest to all who are connected with literature. Let us return to our drama. The stage represents an elegant boudoir in the house of Madame Laferrier. Adèle is there, waiting for Rodolphe. You will admit that I was not so far wrong in calling Madame Laferrier a disreputable woman. There is, I think, another name to designate women who lend their boudoirs to friends when the latter tell their husbands that their fathers are dying in order to obtain liberty to go and meet their lovers. But set your mind at rest. Adèle and Rodolphe only come there to quarrel. True, the quarrel is sufficiently disgraceful in itself. "Qu'avez-vous à me reprocher, madame? --Votre oubli de toutes les convenances. Avant hier, par exemple, quand vous me donniez le bras, oser saluer sur le boulevard mademoiselle Anastasie, une figurante de l'Opéra! --Du chapeau seulement, sans mains, sans grace, comme on salue tout le monde. --Je l'avais une vue déjà une fois sortir de chez vous. --C'est ma locataire. J'amie les arts, moi ... --Je vous prie de me rendre mes lettres et mon portrait. --Dès demain, mon valet de chambre Sylvestre vous portera vos lettres, et, quant à votre portrait, a médaillon que j'avais fait faire, qui ne me quittait jamais, le voici, madame. --C'est bien! le voilà donc revenu dans mes mains. _(L'ouvrant pour le regarder.)_ Dieu! que vois-je? et quelle indignité! Le portrait de mademoiselle Anastasie! --Est-il possible? C'est délicieux! Je me serai trompé en le prenant ce matin. _(Textuel)."_ Rodolphe goes out kissing Adèle's hand, calling her cruel, and promising never to forget her kindnesses. "Ce pauvre Rodolphe! un charmant cavalier! dit Amélie, qui était présente à l'entretien."