As to Mimi, Rodolphe had not heard her even mentioned, save by himself when alone.
"Hallo!" suddenly exclaimed Rodolphe, seeing Marcel squatting dreamily beside the hearth.

"Won't the fire light ?" "There you are," said the painter, setting light to the wood, which began to crackle and flame.
While his friends were sharpening their appetites by getting ready the feast, Marcel had again isolated himself in a corner and was putting the letter he had just found by chance away with some souvenirs that Musette had left him.

All at once he remembered the address of a woman who was the intimate friend of his old love.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, loud enough to be overheard.

"I know where to find her." "Find what ?" asked Rodolphe.

"What are you up to ?" he added, seeing the artist getting ready to write.
"Nothing, only an urgent letter I had forgotten," replied Marcel, and he wrote:-- "My dear girl, I have wealth in my desk, an apoplectic stroke of fortune.