It grows late now, and you must go to your own room; will you take with you these verses, of a part that does not suit me at all, and remodel them for me?
they belong to a piece that we are to play very soon.

Let me be your faithful little friend, de Sigognac, and you shall be my great, and well-beloved poet." Isabelle, as she spoke, drew forth from a bureau a roll of manuscript, tied with a rose-coloured ribbon, which she gave to the baron with a radiant smile.
"Now kiss me, and go," she said, holding up her cheek for his caress.
"You are going to work for me, and this is your reward.

Good-night, my beloved, good-night." It was long after he had regained the quiet of his own room ere de Sigognac could compose himself sufficiently to set about the light task imposed upon him by Isabelle.

He was at once enchanted and cast down; radiant with joy, and filled with sorrow; in a seventh heaven of ecstasy, and in the depths of despair.

He laughed and he wept alternately, swayed by the most tumultuous and contradictory emotions.
The intense happiness of at last knowing himself beloved by his adored Isabelle made him exultant and joyful, while the terrible thought that she never would be his made his heart sink within him.