"Don't be alarmed; the danger must have passed, as I am here."
"Was it long ago?"
"Not more than a week.—I was walking on the boulevard; it seems that my dress came in contact with a lighted match, which our gentlemanly friends are in the habit of strewing along their path, presumably to gratify themselves by roasting us alive! My dress was on fire, and I had no idea of it, when suddenly I felt two strong arms surround me—yes, hug me; I started to cry out, I thought that it was an insult—my dear, my life had been saved! A young man, at the risk of burning himself to death, had sacrificed himself in order to extinguish the fire, and he did it very adroitly, but at the cost of quite a bad burn on his wrist."
"Oh! the poor fellow! I wish I could thank him. Was he a workingman?"
"No; a very elegant young man—and very good-looking. We were surrounded in a moment; you know how inquisitive everybody is in Paris. Luckily, there was a druggist's shop within a few steps, and we took refuge there; and while my rescuer's arm was being dressed, we talked a little. You can understand that I was anxious to know who it was to whom I was so deeply indebted; I asked him his name, and he gave me his card; he was Monsieur Adhémar Monbrun—a dramatist who writes delightful plays. You don't know him, poor darling, for they never take you to the theatre!"
"No, but I know the name through Lucien. This Adhémar Monbrun is a friend of his; he has often spoken to me about him, and he speaks very highly of him."
"Really? Monsieur Lucien knows him, and speaks very highly of him?"
"Yes; he says that he is a very generous man, always ready to help his friends. Indeed, he has said to me more than once: 'If I wanted money, I am very sure that Adhémar would lend me some; but, in my opinion, a man ought not to borrow when he doesn't know how he can repay the loan.'—But finish your story."
"Oh! it's almost finished.—When he gave me his card, I thought it best to give him mine; for I didn't want him to think he had rescued a lorette, or a bitch—as they call prostitutes now. Then I sent for a cab, for I couldn't walk home with my dress all burned. The cab came, and Monsieur Adhémar escorted me to it; I offered to drive him home, for he had to carry his arm in a sling. That was natural enough, wasn't it?"
"Surely. Poor fellow! is he badly burned?"