It is already incontrovertible evidence: I possess super powers. Now, it is absolutely essential that my peers in Parisian high society do not know about it. The incident during the gala dinner at Mme Cambremer’s mansion did not contribute precisely to keeping the secret. The news of my sudden blast-off crossing the mansion’s roof has spread like a wildfire across the Tout-Paris accompanied by all kinds of speculation: an anarchist attack with bomb, a possible heartburn … Naturally, I kept in mind that by now everyone would consider me dead (no normal human being could have survived such an impact). But how could I pretend to be dead without raising suspicion every time I would go to a salon or a high society dinner? No, I couldn’t have died. The only alternative was to pose as seriously injured. So, equipped with a roll of cotton bandages, I slipped away in a room at the Hôtel-Dieu hospital. Before the perplexity of the other patients, I wrapped myself like a mummy and then got into an unoccupied bed. When the nurse came she was surprised to see me there, but before she could start asking questions, I asked her to do me the favor of sending notice to the Cambremer mansion. I immediately received a lot of visits, including Gilberte’s, who was the only one to whom I confessed my unspeakable secret.