He breathed again. I began. I was so nervous I could not see to read; my voice shook so that I could not hear my own voice. Taylor reassured me; he was unaccustomed to such modesty! I resumed my reading, and I managed somehow to get through my first act.
"Well, monsieur, shall I go on?" I asked in a faint voice, without daring to raise my eyes.
"Certainly, certainly," Taylor replied, "go on. Upon my word, it is excellent!"
Fresh life came to me, and I read my second act with more confidence than the first. When I had finished, Taylor himself told me to go on with the third, then the fourth, then the fifth. I felt an inexpressible desire to embrace him; but I refrained, for fear of the consequences.
When the reading was finished, Taylor leapt from his bed.
"You must come to the Théâtre-Français with me," he said.
"But what must I do there?"
"Why, get your turn to read your play as soon as possible."
"Do you really mean it? Shall I read it to the Committee?"
"Not a day later than next Saturday." And Taylor called out, "Pierre!"