So they sat opposite each other, in mournful silence. At length the actress suddenly rose. She struggled fiercely against her depression, and vowed that melancholy should not benumb her spirits and her power.
“He ought to have been here by this time,” said she to herself. “Well, I will not mope for him. I must do something. Triplet,” said she.
“Madam.”
“Nothing.”
“No, madam.”
She sat gently down again, and leaned her head on her hand, and thought. She was beautiful as she thought!—her body seemed bristling with mind! At last, her thoughtful gravity was illumined by a smile. She had thought out something excogitaverat.
“Triplet, the picture is quite ruined!”
“Yes, madam. And a coach-load of criticism coming!”
“Triplet, we actors and actresses have often bright ideas.”
“Yes, ma am.”