Madame Plays was never insensible to a compliment; she could not help laughing as she glanced at the short, stout youth; then she replied, with an irritated air:
"Oh! you're not the one I have a grudge against; but that monster, that ungrateful wretch! Can you conceive such a thing as his making a fool of me again?"
"Who, pray?"
"Why, Albert, monsieur—your friend Albert."
"Oh! Albert—it's so long since I saw him."
"Well, I have seen him again, I have had that happiness. I didn't want to receive him, I had given orders that he wasn't to be admitted—and if it hadn't been for that idiot of a Monsieur Plays!"
"I am very curious to hear the story."
"Very well; I will take your arm, and tell it to you."
"Ah! how kind you are!"
"And perhaps——"