I went up to him and asked him what was the lady's name.
"Mademoiselle Marguerite Gautier," he replied.

I dared not ask him for her address, and went on my way.
The recollection of this vision, for it was really a vision, would not leave my mind like so many visions I had seen, and I looked everywhere for this royally beautiful woman in white.
A few days later there was a great performance at the Opera Comique.

The first person I saw in one of the boxes was Marguerite Gautier.
The young man whom I was with recognised her immediately, for he said to me, mentioning her name: "Look at that pretty girl." At that moment Marguerite turned her opera-glass in our direction and, seeing my friend, smiled and beckoned to him to come to her.
"I will go and say 'How do you do ?' to her," he said, "and will be back in a moment." "I could not help saying 'Happy man!'" "Why ?" "To go and see that woman." "Are you in love with her ?" "No," I said, flushing, for I really did not know what to say; "but I should very much like to know her." "Come with me.

I will introduce you." "Ask her if you may." "Really, there is no need to be particular with her; come." What he said troubled me.

I feared to discover that Marguerite was not worthy of the sentiment which I felt for her.
In a book of Alphonse Karr entitles Am Rauchen, there is a man who one evening follows a very elegant woman, with whom he had fallen in love with at first sight on account of her beauty.