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Binet and his daughter.
This scoundrelly bastard I've befriended has little by little
robbed me of everything. It's in his power to-day to rob me of my
troupe, and the knave's ungrateful enough and vile enough to make
use of his power.
"Let him," said mademoiselle contemptuously.
"Let him?" He was aghast. "And what's to become of us?"
"In no case will the Binet Troupe interest me much longer," said
she. "I shall be going to Paris soon. There are better theatres
there than the Feydau. There's Mlle. Montansier's theatre in the
Palais Royal; there's the Ambigu Comique; there's the Comedie
Francaise; there's even a possibility I may have a theatre of my
own."
His eyes grew big for once. He stretched out a fat hand, and
placed it on one of hers. She noticed that it trembled.
"Has he promised that? Has he promised?"
She looked at him with her head on one side, eyes sly and a queer
little smile on her perfect lips.
"He did not refuse me when I asked it," she answered, with
conviction that all was as she desired it.


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