"Received with acclamation, mother! received with acclamation!" I shouted. And I began to dance round our rooms, which allowed but little space for such exercise. My mother thought I must have gone mad; I had not told her I was going to the reading for fear of disappointment.
"And what will M. Fossier say?" my poor mother exclaimed.
"Oh!" I replied, suiting my words to the tune of Malbrouck, "M. Fossier can say whatever he likes, and if he is not satisfied, I will send him about his business!"
"Take care, my dear lad," my mother replied, shaking her head; "it will be you who will be sent packing and in good earnest, too."
"All right, mother; so much the better! It will give me time to attend my rehearsals."
"And suppose your play is a failure, and you have lost your situation, what will become of us?"
"I will write another play that will succeed."
"But in the meantime we must live."
"Ah yes! it's very unfortunate that one has to live; happily, in seven or eight days we shall receive something on account."