"Oh well! it has style, you know; it is smart, brilliant, trenchant." "I will take note of that." "When do you wish me to return?" "Return to-morrow." "At what hour?" "About noon." "To-morrow at noon, then; rest as much as you can till then." "I will try.... Adieu." "Adieu!" He gave me his hand. "Take care of yourself, you are frightfully feverish." "That is just what I am reckoning upon. A thousand compliments to Georges; she need not be anxious; if there is a suitable rôle for her, it shall be created, or I will know the reason why." "Have you nothing else for me to tell her?" "Only that that I love her with all my heart." Verteuil went away, leaving me alone with the fever and the copy of Janin's MS. Once again I repeat it (and these lines are addressed to M. Frédérick Gaillardet), Heaven save me, after the lapse of twenty-one years, from seeming to have hostile intentions towards a man who did me the honour of risking his life against mine, in exchanging pistol shots with me; but I must, according to my accustomed frankness, relate things as they happened, very certain that, if it is still necessary at this date, the memories of Bocage, of Georges, of Janin and of Verteuil will agree with mine. Having made this assertion, I will continue my narrative. When left to myself, I began to read the manuscript. The play began at the second scene, that is to say, with Orsini's monologue. Finally, the second scene, which was then the first, remained pretty much as it was. There was, as Verteuil had told me, and as I myself recognised later, no other difference between M. Gaillardet's MS. and Janin's than the style. Janin, as is known, is, in this respect, a master before whom small fry bow and great ones salute. But a complete tirade, probably the most brilliant in the whole drama, belonged to Janin: it was the one of the _grandes dames._ Did he avenge himself here on some _lady,_ some one he believed to be a _great lady_? I do not know at all; but although the tirade is well known, we will reproduce it here. "BURIDAN. Vous ne savez donc pas où nous sommes? PHILIPPE. Où sommes-nous? BURIDAN. Vous ne savez donc pas quelles sont ces femmes? PHILIPPE. Vous êtes tout ému, Buridan!