ull of self-esteem, and since she had
known what it was to love another she was eager to efface everything
unfashionable from her past; she felt that Chevalier, in killing himself
for her sake, had behaved towards her publicly with a familiarity which
made her ridiculous. Still unaware that all things fall into oblivion,
and are lost in the swift current of our days, that all our actions flow
like the waters of a river, between banks that have no memory, she
pondered, irritated and dejected, at the feet of Jean Racine, who
understood her grief.

"Just look at her," said Madame Marie-Claire to young Delage. "She wants
to cry. I understand her. A man killed himself for me. I was greatly
upset by it. He was a count."

"Well, begin again!" shouted Pradel. "Come now, Mademoiselle Nanteuil,
your cue!"

Whereupon Nanteuil:

"'Cousin, I was so happy when I awoke this morning....'"

Suddenly, Madame Doulce appeared. Ponderous and mournful, she let fall
the following words:

"I have very sad news. The parish priest will not allow him to enter his
church."

As Chevalier had no relations left other than a sister, a working-woman
at Pantin, Madame Doulce had undertaken to make arrangements for the
funeral at the expense of the members of the company.

They gathered round her. She continued:

"The Church rejects him as though he were accurst! That's dreadful!"

"Why?" asked Romilly.

Madame Doulce replied in a very low tone and as if reluctantly:

"Because he committed suicide."

"We must see to this," said Pradel.

Romilly displayed an eager desire to be of service.

"The cure knows me," he said. "He is a very decent fellow. I'll just run
over to Saint-Etienne-du-Mont, and I'd be greatly surprised if----"

Madame Doulce shook her head sadly:

"All is useless."

"All the same, we must have a religious service," said Romilly, with all
the authority of a stage-manager.

"Quite so," said Madame Doulce.

Madame Marie-Claire, deeply exercised in her mind, was of opinion that
the priests could be compelled to say a Mass.

"Let us keep cool," said Pradel, caressing his venerable beard. "Under
Louis VIII the people broke in the doors of Saint-Roch, which had been
closed to the coffin of Mademoiselle Raucourt. We live in other times,
and under different circumstances. We must have recourse to gentler
methods."

Constantin Marc, seeing to his great regret that his play was abandoned,
had likewise approached Madame