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Updated: May 31, 2025
While Madame Nanteuil conceived and gave expression to bright and cheerful ideas, Félicie was fast becoming gloomy, fretful, and sullen. Lines began to show in her pretty face; her voice assumed a grating quality.
Half an hour at the outside." "Do you know Nanteuil is engaged at the Comédie-Française?" "Do we rehearse to-day?" Constantin Marc inquired of Romilly. "To be sure we do, at three o'clock, in the green-room. We shall rehearse till five. I am playing to-night; I am playing to-morrow; on Sunday I play both afternoon and evening.
Nanteuil rose, and slipped over her wrist a velvet ribbon ornamented with a steel medallion. Madame Michon was on her knees arranging the three Watteau pleats of the pink dress, and, with her mouth full of pins, delivered herself from one corner of her lips of the following maxim: "There is one good thing in being old, men cannot make you suffer any more."
Madame Doulce and Pradel called to mind three physicians in succession; but they were unable to find the address of the first; the second was bad-tempered, and it was decided that the third was dead. Nanteuil suggested that they should approach Dr. Trublet. "That's an idea!" exclaimed Pradel. "Let us ask a certificate of Dr. Socrates. What's to-day? Friday. It's his day for consultations.
"Delage, stand aside a bit to let her pass." Nanteuil crossed over. "'Terrible days, do you say, Aimeri? Our days are what we make them. They are terrible for evil-doers only." Romilly interrupted: "Delage, efface yourself a trifle; be careful not to hide her from the audience. Once more, Nanteuil." Nanteuil repeated: "'Terrible days, do you say, Aimeri? Our days are what we make them.
"'Lest the pond murmur: "Who is this stranger?"" "Mademoiselle Nanteuil, it's your cue Where has Nanteuil got to? Nanteuil!" Nanteuil came forward muffled up in her furs, her little bag and her part in her hand, white as a sheet, her eyes sunken, her legs nerveless. When fully awake she had seen the dead man enter her bedroom. She inquired: "Where do I make my entrance from?" "From the right."
"I am quite content with my work," replied Nanteuil, "but you cannot expect me to play all ingénues with the same pleasure. There is one part, for example, which I long to play, and that is Agnès in L'École des femmes." At the mere mention of the name of Agnès, the doctor murmured delightedly from among his cushions: "Mes yeux ont-ils du mal pour en donner au monde?"
Treasuring in his heart an absurd yet soothing remnant of hope, he went, this night, as on other nights, to wait for Félicie at her mother's flat. Madame Nanteuil lived with her daughter in a little flat on the fifth story of a house in the Boulevard Saint-Michel, whose windows opened upon the garden of the Luxembourg.
"I am giving this reading for the benefit of the three poor orphans left by Lacour, the actor, who died so sadly of consumption this winter. I am counting on you, my darlings, to dispose of some tickets for me." "All the same, she really is ridiculous, Marie-Claire!" said Nanteuil. Some one scratched at the door of the box.
Not without some impatience, he followed her up the stairs. Chevalier had waited for Félicie, in the little dining-room, before the armour which she had worn as Jeanne d'Arc, together with Madame Nanteuil, until one o'clock in the morning. He had left at that hour, and had watched for her on the pavement, and on seeing the cab stop in front of the door he had concealed himself behind a tree.
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