"Here, perhaps, is your friend in blue," said Pageot, indicating a lady who was one of the first to come out. Mme. Chambannes hurried to stop Mme. de Marquesse, who exclaimed: "You!... Well, I cannot say you are early! Yet I only came here to please you!" "A letter I was expecting from Gerald," apologized her friend. "I'll tell you about it later.... I was quite upset, I assure you.... Well, tell me, was it at least all right inside there? Was it worth the trouble?... Did he speak of Cleopatra?... Was he very shocking?" Mme. de Marquesse assumed a roguish expression. "I don't know.... You are asking too much.... I am like the little girl in the play.... I saw nothing, I heard nothing.... Standing, with rows of men in front of me and the smell of perspiration!... I won't be caught again.... Or else I shall send my footman to book my seats in good time...." "How dreadful!" "Oh, well, it might have been worse," replied Mme. de Marquesse protectively.... "Goodness gracious! What a child you are, little Zozé! Here or elsewhere you will meet M. Raindal again.... There is nothing lost.... And all this because M. de Meuze turned your head with his blarney!..." "This has nothing to do with M. de Meuze!" "With whom, then?... Is it Gerald?... If it isn't the father, then it must be the son.... Do you really think that notorieties carry any weight with him?... How naïve you are!" "Why not!" demanded Mme. Chambannes sarcastically. "With such ideas, in three months I shall succeed in having a salon like the Pums or the Silberschmidts.... Thank you!... My system is not so absurd.... I know what I am doing!" Then she added more cordially, "Shall we watch them come out?" "If you like," replied Mme. de Marquesse. And they stood at one side in the narrow passage through which the audience filed out.