armchair. I won't be in your way, I tell you!"

The actor heaved a sigh.

"Ah! yes, that armchair. It was our poor Zizi's. She sat up many a
night in it, when work was pressing. Ah, me! those who leave this world
are much the happiest."

He had always at hand such selfish, comforting maxims. He had no sooner
uttered that one than he discovered with dismay that his soup would soon
be stone-cold. Sidonie noticed his movement.

"Why, you were just eating your supper, weren't you? Pray go on."

"'Dame'! yes, what would you have? It's part of the trade, of the hard
existence we fellows have. For you see, my girl, I stand firm. I
haven't given up. I never will give up."

What still remained of Desiree's soul in that wretched household in which
she had lived twenty years must have shuddered at that terrible
declaration. He never would give up!

"No matter what people may say," continued Delobelle, "it's the noblest
profession in the world. You are free; you depend upon nobody. Devoted
to the service of glory and the public! Ah! I know what I would do in
your place. As if you were born to live with all those bourgeois--the
devil! What you need is the artistic life, the fever of success, the
unexpected, intense emotion."

As he spoke he took his seat, tucked his napkin in his neck, and helped