"My heartfelt congratulations on your undoubted success—Robert."
Just as she finished reading it Dr. Trublet entered the dressing-room.
She flung her arms, burning with joy and fatigue, round his neck; she drew him to her warm moist bosom, and planted on his meditative Silenus-like face a smacking kiss from her intoxicated lips.
Socrates, who was a wise man, took the kiss as a gift from the gods, knowing full well that it was not intended for him, but was dedicated to glory and to love.
Nanteuil realized herself that in her intoxication she had perhaps charged her lips with too ardent a breath, for, throwing her arms apart, she exclaimed:
"It can't be helped! I am so happy!"
CHAPTER XX
