And, turning around suddenly, she began another rondo, no less famous than the first, and borrowed, this time, from the third act of the Petites-Blanchisseuses:
“What matters the quality?
Beauty alone takes the prize
Women before man must rise,
And claim perfect equality.”
Very attentively M. de Tregars was observing her. He had not been the dupe of the great surprise she had manifested when she found him in the little parlor.
“She knew I was here,” he thought; “and it is her mother who has sent her to me. But why? and for what purpose?”
“With all that,” she resumed, “I see the sweet Mme. Favoral and her modest daughter in a terribly tight place. What a ‘bust,’ marquis!”
“They have a great deal of courage, mademoiselle.”
“Naturally. But, what is better, the daughter has a splendid voice: at least, so her professor told Costeclar. Why should she not go on the stage? Actresses make lots of money, you know. Papa’ll help her, if she wishes. He has a great deal of influence in the theatres, papa has.”
“Mme. and Mlle. Favoral have friends.”
“Ah, yes! Costeclar.”
“Others besides.”