"To the Opéra?"
"Yes, monsieur; Mamzelle Adèle told us that her mistress was going to the Opéra."
I was determined to find her. If I allowed that evening to pass without having an explanation with her, she would be quite capable of leaving Paris on the morrow; she would escape me again, and for a long time perhaps. I decided to go to the Opéra. Frédérique was not one of those women who are afraid to go to the theatre alone; more than once I had heard her say:
"Why do I need a companion? When the fancy takes me to go to the theatre, I send and hire a box, and I go. In my box, I am alone, I am at home, and no one has the right to come there to annoy me."
I arrived at the Opéra; I went into the orchestra and stood at the entrance, from which I examined one side of the auditorium. I did not see Frédérique. I walked to the other side of the orchestra; there was a large audience, and several men were already standing at that entrance. I slipped in behind them and began my inspection. That time my search was short: I saw her, alone, in a baignoire, leaning back a little. Was she listening attentively to the performance, or was she absorbed by her thoughts? Before joining her, I gave myself the pleasure of gazing at her for several minutes.
Suddenly one of the men in front of me began to speak, so loudly that I did not lose a single word; indeed, I was speedily convinced that he intended that I should hear.
"I say, do you see that lady yonder, in one of the baignoires—all alone in her box?"
"In a pearl-gray dress, with black hair, and long cork-screw curls?"
"Exactly. What do you think of her?"
"Not bad—a Spanish type of face; but a little pale."