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 Cartouche as the wounded Roman centurion of the Pretorian Guard, got several recalls, and he was no great things of an actor. Duvernet covered himself with glory, but all paled before Fifi's triumph. Never was there such a thunder of applause, such a tempest of curtain calls, such a storm of bravos. Fifi palpitated with joy and pride.

When at last the performance was over, and Cartouche and Fifi came out of the theater into the dark street, under the quiet stars, Fifi said, quite seriously:

"Cartouche, my heart is troubled."

"Why, Fifi?"

"Because I am not half good enough for you. I am only Fifi—you know what I mean. I am ashamed that I am not something more and better than merely Fifi."

And Cartouche, who was usually the most matter-of-fact fellow alive, replied softly:

"As if a rose should be ashamed of being only a rose!"