"Some one is going to put fifty thousand francs into the Revue!"
"Precisely."
"And you will become?"
"Editor in chief instead of director."
"And the director?"
"A pseudonym." I know Fortier; he will not take offense.
"Now, confess that it is the countess." He smiles and immediately gallops across the faded fields of the dithyramb:
"She is charming, generous, devoted to art, and without personal ambition."
"Except to be loved?"
"I charge myself with that."