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At this moment Father Barillot's voice was heard outside the door. "May I give the knocks, madame? The house is growing impatient." "All in good time," answered Nana quietly. She had dipped her paint brush in a pot of kohl, and with the point of her nose close to the glass and her left eye closed she passed it delicately along between her eyelashes. Muffat stood behind her, looking on.
And there stood Mme Jules, waiting, cool and rigid as ever, while Satin, marveling in the depths of her vicious soul to see a prince and two gentlemen in black coats going after a naked woman in the society of dressed-up actors, secretly concluded that fashionable people were not so very particular after all. But Father Barillot's tinkling bell approached along the passage.
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