“Well, it’s settled then!” he said gaily.
I showed him the contract and shook hands with him. I went quickly down the stairs, and just as I was leaving the theatre found myself in the midst of a group in the doorway.
“Are you satisfied?” asked a gentle voice which I recognised as M. Doucet’s.
“Oh yes, Monsieur; thank you so much,” I answered.
“But my dear child, I have nothing to do with it,” he said.
“Your competition was not at all good, but nevertheless we feel sure of you,” put in M. Régnier, and then turning to Camille Doucet he asked, “What do you say, Excellency?”
“I think that this child will be a very great artist,” he replied.
There was a silence for a moment.
“Well, you have got a fine carriage!” exclaimed Beauvallet rudely. He was the first tragedian of the Comédie, and the most uncouth man in France or anywhere else.
“This carriage belongs to Mademoiselle’s aunt,” remarked Camille Doucet, shaking hands with me gently.