“At last the opening night arrived.  We were all anxious to see the result.  The prevailing opinion was that the play offered little novelty; but since Clotilde had staked her whole soul upon the outcome, a big success was predicted.  At the dress rehearsal our young friend had achieved genuine prodigies.  There was a moment when the few of us whom curiosity had brought to witness it, rose to our feet electrified, convulsed, making a most unseemly outcry.  You have no conception how marvelously she rendered her part.  Then and there, all of a sudden, an idea entered my head.  Recalling all my observations of Clotilde’s love affair, I felt convinced, in view of the evidence, that Inocencio had had no other purpose in winning her love than to assure an exceptional interpretation of the leading role of his play, and a flattering outcome of his venture.  I decided not to communicate my suspicions to anyone.  I kept silent and hoped, but there is no doubt that from that time on the young man was decidedly out of favor with me.

“The noise which Inocencio’s friends had been making in regard to the theme of his play, the fact that Clotilde had chosen it for her benefit performance, and the wide-spread rumor that the celebrated actress was going to win a signal triumph in it, all worked together to help the speculators to dispose of every seat in the house at fabulous prices.  I know a marquis who paid eleven duros for two orchestra stalls.  This room where we are now sitting was filled, just as it is annually, with flowers and presents; it was impossible to move about in the midst of such a conglomeration of porcelain, books with costly bindings, ebony work-boxes, picture-frames, and no end of other fancy trifles.

“The audience room was unusually brilliant.  The most resplendent ladies, the men most distinguished in politics, literature, and finance; in short, the high life, as the phrase goes, was all there.  But even more brilliant and more radiant was Inocencio himself; radiant with glory and happiness, and graciously receiving the crowds of visitors who came to see the presents, dictating orders to the call-boys and scene-shifters regarding the proper setting of the scene, and multiplying his smiles and hand-shakings to the point of infinity.  Clotilde also seemed more beautiful than ever, and her expressive face revealed the tender emotion which possessed her, as well as her deep anxiety to win laurels for her future husband.

“The curtain arose and everyone hurried to occupy his seat.  In the wings there was no one save the author and three or four of his friends.  The opening scenes were received as usual with indifference; the following ones with a little more cordiality; the versification was fluent and polished, and, as you know, the public appreciates sugar-coated phrases.  At last the moment arrived for Clotilde’s entrance, and a faint murmur of curiosity and expectation ran through the audience.  She spoke her lines discreetly, but without much warmth; it was easy to see that she was afraid.  The curtain fell in a dead silence.