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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"


"I feel confused."
And she closed her eyes, afraid of giving herself away. Once more in
the air and she began to feel better. She breathed the little flask of
ether that the Doctor held under her nose.
"This poor heart is always making scenes. Ah! dear Count, you will
have to set that in order."
The Duke had moved away. Annoyed by the insistence of the public, he
told Jean Perliez to announce that Mlle. Darbois needed a little rest,
and presented her compliments to the audience and excused herself from
replying to the encoring. This was a real disappointment. There had
been such enthusiasm for the two fiances, an enthusiasm well-earned by
the inspired execution of "Orpheus," that the attitude of this elite
audience was a little indifferent to the artists who concluded the
concert. The hall was half empty and several artists were too offended
to appear.
Esperance went to her room with her mother and Genevieve, begging the
Count to return to his mother.
"Your mother will be anxious, and my father can not reassure her,
because he does not himself know the symptoms of this slight illness.
Tell them that I will rest for a quarter of an hour and then join you
at my flower booth."
When she was left alone with Genevieve she drew her friend to her.
"My dear little sister, I cannot tell you the joy that pervades every
part of my being. In an hour it will be over! My father will talk with
Albert and I shall be free! free!"
"Poor boy," sighed Genevieve.


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