"How should I know?" returned Elvira, somewhat tartly.
"Oh, woman, woman!" said Leon, beginning to open the guitar-case. "It is one of the burdens of my life, Monsieur Stubbs; they support each other; they always pretend there is no system; they say it's nature. Even Madame Berthelini, who is a dramatic artist!"
"You are heartless, Leon," said Elvira; "that woman is in trouble."
"And the man, my angel?" inquired Berthelini, passing the ribbon of his guitar. "And the man, M'AMOUR?"
"He is a man," she answered.
"You hear that?" said Leon to Stubbs. "It is not too late for you. Mark the intonation. And now," he continued, "what are we to give them?"
"Are you going to sing?" asked Stubbs.
"I am a troubadour," replied Leon. "I claim a welcome by and for my art. If I were a banker could I
