Philip and Cleone were at the centre of a welcoming throng. Cleone's hand was kissed a dozen times. Delighted questions were shot at Philip.
Saint-Dantin grasped his hand.
"Mon cher petit! You have returned at last? Et madame!" He bowed to the blushing Cleone. "There is no need to ask who is, madame." He smiled at her. "It is evident that her name is Cleone!"
De Vangrisse pressed forward.
"The mysterious Cleone! Madame, votre serviteur! We have all longed to see the lady who so consistently held Philip's heart!"
"Philippe, how long have you been in Paris?" demanded De Chatelin. "You are going to remain? Ah bon!"
"Philippe, have you an ode for the occasion?" asked another laughing voice.
Clothilde de Chaucheron pushed through the ring.
"Le petit Philippe au cœur perdu!" she cried.
Philip disengaged himself from the clutches of Saint-Dantin and took his wife's hand.