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Updated: June 19, 2025
She felt that the Frenchwoman was completely unscrupulous. She saw cruelty in those yellow eyes. The red mouth was hard as a bar of iron in the artificial white face. Madame Sennier moved in a sea of perfume. And even this perfume troubled and disgusted, yet half fascinated Charmian, suggesting to her knowledge that she did not possess, and that perhaps helped on the way of ambition.
"I suppose I have a right to allow anyone I choose to read a libretto I have bought and paid for," he said coldly, almost sternly. "You did give it to Mrs. Shiffney then! You did! You did!" "Certainly I did!" "And then then you come to me and say that Madame Sennier hasn't read it!" There was a sound of acute, almost of fierce exasperation in her voice. "She had not read my copy."
She had intended by judicious talk to create the impression that Claude was an extraordinary man, on the way to accomplish great things. She believed this thoroughly herself. But she now realized that, owing to the absurd Sennier "boom," unless she could get Claude to show publicly something of his talent nobody would pay any attention to what she said.
"Having his tea in the drawing-room, ma'am." "Oh!" She took off her fur coat and went quickly upstairs. She did not care about golf, and to-day the mere sound of the name irritated her. Englishmen were always playing golf, she said to herself. Jacques Sennier did not waste his time on such things, she was sure.
As the act ran its course her mind became fixed upon the close, upon the call for Claude. Armand Gillier was blotted out from her mind. The cry that went up would be for Claude. Would it be a cry from the heart of this crowd? She remembered, she even heard distinctly in her mind, the cry the Covent Garden crowd had sent up for Jacques Sennier on the first night of Le Paradis Terrestre.
His name is Gillier." "Armand Gillier?" exclaimed Madame Sennier, while her husband threw out his hands in a gesture of surprise. "Yes. Do you know him?" "Know him!" exclaimed the composer. "When have I not known him? Three libretti by him have I rejected three, madame. He challenged me to a duel, pistols, if you please! I to fire, and perhaps be shot, because he cannot write a good libretto!
She began to find excuses for his former conduct. He was a poor man struggling to make his way, terribly anxious to succeed. Madame Sennier had "got at" him. It was not unnatural, perhaps, that he had wished to associate himself with Jacques Sennier. Of course he had had no right to suggest the withdrawal of his libretto from Claude. That had been insulting.
"Only" he lowered his voice "only till your husband comes back. There is inspiration here!" Charmian knew he was talking nonsense. Nevertheless she glanced round half in dread of Madame Sennier. The yellow eyes were smiling. The white face looked humorously sarcastic. "Of course! Whenever you like!" she said lightly. The monkeylike hands pressed hers more closely.
What could either Madame Sennier or Adelaide Shiffney do to disturb her peace or interfere with her life or Claude's? Nothing surely. Yet she felt as if they were both hostile to her, were set against all she wished for. And she felt as if she had been like an angry child when she had talked of her husband to Madame Sennier.
"Jacques has been telling me about your kindness to him," said Madame Sennier, "and your long talks about opera, America, the audiences over there, the managers, the money-making. I'm afraid he must have bored you with our affairs." "Oh, no!" said Charmian quickly, and faintly reddening. "We have had a delightful time." "Adorable!" said Sennier.
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