Baroness—­But, Marquis, this is very unconventional.

Marquis [kissing her hand]—­Flatterer!  Now sit down, and let’s talk about serious things. [Taking a newspaper from the table.] The gout hasn’t kept me from reading the news.  Do you know that poor Deodat’s death is a serious mishap?

Baroness—­What a loss to our cause!

Marquis—­I have wept for him.

Baroness—­Such talent!  Such spirit!  Such sarcasm!

Marquis—­He was the hussar of orthodoxy.  He will live in history as the angelic pamphleteer.  And now that we have settled his noble ghost—­

Baroness—­You speak very lightly about it, Marquis.

Marquis—­I tell you I’ve wept for him.—­Now let’s think of some one to replace him.

Baroness—­Say to succeed him.  Heaven doesn’t create two such men at the same time.

Marquis—­What if I tell you that I have found such another?  Yes, Baroness, I’ve unearthed a wicked, cynical, virulent pen, that spits and splashes; a fellow who would lard his own father with epigrams for a consideration, and who would eat him with salt for five francs more.

Baroness—­Deodat had sincere convictions.

Marquis—­That’s because he fought for them.  There are no more mercenaries.  The blows they get convince them.  I’ll give this fellow a week to belong to us body and soul.

Baroness—­If you haven’t any other proofs of his faithfulness—­

Marquis—­But I have.

Baroness—­Where from?

Marquis—­Never mind.  I have it.

Baroness—­And why do you wait before presenting him?

Marquis—­For him in the first place, and then for his consent.  He lives in Lyons, and I expect him to-day or to-morrow.  As soon as he is presentable, I’ll introduce him.

Baroness—­Meanwhile, I’ll tell the committee of your find.

Marquis—­I beg you, no.  With regard to the committee, dear Baroness, I wish you’d use your influence in a matter which touches me.

Baroness—­I have not much influence—­

Marquis—­Is that modesty, or the exordium of a refusal?

Baroness—­If either, it’s modesty.

Marquis—­Very well, my charming friend.  Don’t you know that these gentlemen owe you too much to refuse you anything?

Baroness—­Because they meet in my parlor?

Marquis—­That, yes; but the true, great, inestimable service you render every day is to possess such superb eyes.

Baroness—­It’s well for you to pay attention to such things!

Marquis—­Well for me, but better for these Solons whose compliments don’t exceed a certain romantic intensity.

Baroness—­You are dreaming.

Marquis—­What I say is true.  That’s why serious societies always rally in the parlor of a woman, sometimes clever, sometimes beautiful.  You are both, Madame:  judge then of your power!