Thereupon he described for the twentieth time the landscape, upon which the curtain ought to rise.
"In the foreground, an old park. The trunks of the great trees, on the north side, are green with moss. The dampness of the soil must be felt."
And the manager replied:
"You may rest assured that everything that can be done will be done, and that it will be most appropriate. Well, Madame Doulce, what news?"
"There is a glimmer of hope," she replied.
"At the back, in a slight mist," said the author, "the grey stones and the slate roofs of the Abbaye-aux-Dames."
"Quite so. Pray be seated, Madame Doulce; you have my attention."
"I was most courteously received at the Archbishop's Palace," said Madame Doulce.
"Monsieur Pradel, it is imperative that the walls of the Abbaye should appear inscrutable, of great thickness, and yet subtilized by the mists of coming night. A pale-gold sky——"