"Oh, if I wanted to--" she muttered.
As became an obliging friend, he at once offered to act as intercessor.
But she refused his help, and he thereupon attacked her in an opposite
quarter.
He informed her that Bordenave was busy mounting a play of Fauchery's
containing a splendid part for her.
"What, a play with a part!" she cried in amazement. "But he's in it and
he's told me nothing about it!"
She did not mention Fontan by name. However, she grew calm again
directly and declared that she would never go on the stage again.
Labordette doubtless remained unconvinced, for he continued with smiling
insistence.
"You know, you need fear nothing with me. I get your Muffat ready for
you, and you go on the stage again, and I bring him to you like a little
dog!"
"No!" she cried decisively.
And she left him. Her heroic conduct made her tenderly pitiful toward
herself. No blackguard of a man would ever have sacrificed himself like
that without trumpeting the fact abroad. Nevertheless, she was struck by
one thing: Labordette had given her exactly the same advice as Francis
had given her. That evening when Fontan came home she questioned him
about Fauchery's piece. The former had been back at the Varietes for two
months past.
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