Jules knocked the ashes of his cigarette against the edge of the table. "Now, do you mean? I can't imagine. You're always doing impossible things."
"I'm going to interview the little acrobat."
Jules came very near jumping. He controlled himself, however, and carelessly lifted the cigarette to his lips again.
"What little acrobat?" he asked, screwing his eyes.
"The one you saw last night—at the Cirque—the Cirque Parisien."
"Oh, Mademoiselle—Mademoiselle—what's her name—the one who dives from the top of the building?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle Blanche. When I went back to the office last night, I told old Bargy about her—cracked her up to the skies, and he swallowed the bait, and sent me round to interview her to-night. Ah, my dear boy, that's one of the advantages of being a newspaper man. It opens every door to you. Whenever I want to get acquainted with a pretty actress, I simply go and interview her."
He sat back in his seat and smiled and hummed a popular song, rapping the table with his fingers. The waiter came up and asked for his order.
"Two bocks!" said Durand, looking at Jules.
"No, no more for me. I haven't finished this yet." When the waiter went away, Jules glanced sleepily at the journalist. "You're a very lucky fellow, it seems to me. I should think it would be rather agreeable to know the pretty actresses."