I went up and saw her. She was as beautiful as the conquering Semiramis. We greeted each other as cordially as we always do when we meet. I told her the whole story about M. Gaillardet, and I was grieved to see that she thought Harel entirely in the right.
"Well, all right," I said; "let us not talk any more about it.... By the bye, what is this he tells me?"
"Harel?"
"Yes."
"Some tomfoolery."
"Exactly.... He tells me that you had an idea in your mind."
"Insolent man!"
"An idea for a play, be it understood. Peste! You have something much better than ideas: you have your caprices."
"Not with you, in any case!"
"That is just what I complain of."