The critics were dithyrambic in their discourses concerning the new "Dona Sol," but the casual reporters were, as always, indiscreet, and disguised the truth under little prevarications, fantastic and suggestive. After having read two or three of the articles, Esperance pushed them all aside. She took the name of all the critics, and wrote them little notes of thanks, while Mlle. Frahender added the addresses. In the neighbouring room a discussion was going on between her knight-attendants. Esperance did not gather its cause, although certain phrases were audible.
"No, I tell you," Maurice was saying, "if it is worth while at all, I must be the one."
"I could always demand a correction," replied Jean.
"Correction of what? It is simply one of those ambiguous phrases which are used every day. Why notice it?"
The sound of Esperance's voice cut short their discussion.
"What are you talking about?" she called out.
"Nothing at all," returned Maurice, "that is, only stupid things you would not understand."
"That is not a very gallant morning greeting, cousin, but you have not forgotten your promise to lake me to the Museum this morning, I hope."
"Yes, my dear, we will go to the Museum in a very little while."
She heard the door close.