"Good-evening, my dear Gaston," said Marguerite to my companion.

"I am very glad to see you.

Why didn't you come to see me in my box at the Varietes ?" "I was afraid it would be indiscreet." "Friends," and Marguerite lingered over the word, as if to intimate to those who were present that in spite of the familiar way in which she greeted him, Gaston was not and never had been anything more than a friend, "friends are always welcome." "Then, will you permit me to introduce M.Armand Duval ?" "I had already authorized Prudence to do so." "As far as that goes, madame," I said, bowing, and succeeding in getting more or less intelligible sounds out of my throat, "I have already had the honour of being introduced to you." Marguerite's beautiful eyes seemed to be looking back in memory, but she could not, or seemed not to, remember.
"Madame," I continued, "I am grateful to you for having forgotten the occasion of my first introduction, for I was very absurd and must have seemed to you very tiresome.

It was at the Opera Comique, two years ago; I was with Ernest de -- --." "Ah, I remember," said Marguerite, with a smile.

"It was not you who were absurd; it was I who was mischievous, as I still am, but somewhat less.