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Updated: May 26, 2025
So much so that, after some seconds spent in asking herself if she had really heard that note, that sound, that infernal noise issue from her throat, she tried to persuade herself that it was not so, that she was the victim of an illusion, an illusion of the ear, and not of an act of treachery on the part of her voice.... Meanwhile, in Box Five, Moncharmin and Richard had turned very pale.
But M. Moncharmin declares, in his Memoirs, that the guest's nose was transparent: "long, thin and transparent" are his exact words. I, for my part, will add that this might very well apply to a false nose. M. Moncharmin may have taken for transparency what was only shininess.
The ghost said a word in his ear, you know, on the evening when he left Box Five, looking so dreadfully pale." Moncharmin heaved a sigh. "What a business!" he groaned. "Ah!" said Mme. Giry. "I always thought there were secrets between the ghost and M. Poligny. Anything that the ghost asked M. Poligny to do M. Poligny did. M. Poligny could refuse the ghost nothing."
Having begun by walking backward in order to bow, Richard continued to do so from prudence, until he reached the passage leading to the offices of the management. In this way, he was constantly watched by Moncharmin from behind and himself kept an eye on any one approaching from the front.
"Found out about what?" asked Moncharmin, who had never been so much amused in his life. "About the ghost, of course! ... Look here ..." She suddenly calmed herself, feeling that this was a solemn moment in her life: "LOOK HERE," she repeated. "They were playing La Juive.
"Well, I can feel the pin." "Of course, as you said, we can't be robbed without noticing it." But Moncharmin, whose hands were still fumbling, bellowed: "I can feel the pin, but I can't feel the notes!" "Come, no joking, Moncharmin! ... This isn't the time for it." "Well, feel for yourself." Richard tore off his coat. The two managers turned the pocket inside out.
And I feel bound to say that MM. Richard and Moncharmin at this time appeared so changed, so absent-minded, so mysterious, so incomprehensible that many of the subscribers thought that some event even more horrible than the fall of the chandelier must have affected their state of mind. In their daily intercourse, they showed themselves very impatient, except with Mme.
The twenty real notes were gone and had been replaced by twenty notes, of the "Bank of St. Farce"! The managers' rage and fright were unmistakable. Moncharmin wanted to send for the commissary of police, but Richard objected. He no doubt had a plan, for he said: "Don't let us make ourselves ridiculous! All Paris would laugh at us. O. G. has won the first game: we will win the second."
The letter was accompanied by a cutting from the agony-column of the Revue Theatrale, which ran: O. G. There is no excuse for R. and M. We told them and left your memorandum-book in their hands. Kind regards. M. Firmin Richard had hardly finished reading this letter when M. Armand Moncharmin entered, carrying one exactly similar. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Here they found the new managers, M. Armand Moncharmin and M. Firmin Richard, whom they hardly knew; nevertheless, they were lavish in protestations of friendship and received a thousand flattering compliments in reply, so that those of the guests who had feared that they had a rather tedious evening in store for them at once put on brighter faces.
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