"He was jealous?"
"He was the most jealous man, I think, who ever lived. His jealousy escorted me everywhere like a guard of soldiers. Yet I liked him even for that. He was genuine; so sincere, so masterful with it. In all matters his methods were drastic. If he had been alive I should not be tormented by the absurd fears which I now allow to get the better of me."
"Fears! About what?"
"To be frank, about my debut at the Opéra Comique. I can imagine," she smiled, "how he would have dealt with that situation."
"You are afraid of something?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"I don't know. I merely fear.... There is Carlotta Deschamps."
"Miss Rosa, a few minutes ago you called me your friend." My voice was emotional; I felt it.