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Nay, he hastened his walk: he almost ran, his skin tingling with the breath of that fiery approach to a world he knew nothing of. "A theater's a curious sight, eh?" said the Marquis de Chouard with the enchanted expression of a man who once more finds himself amid familiar surroundings. But Bordenave had at length reached Nana's dressing room at the end of the passage.
"Hush!" murmured Bordenave. On the stage Rose rendered a phrase in her duet so cleverly that the stalls burst into universal applause. Nana was silent at this, and her face grew grave. Meanwhile the count was venturing down a passage when Barillot stopped him and said he would make a discovery there.
Bordenave was utterly dumfounded while Mignon, who had never once taken his eyes off the count, tranquilly awaited results. "Then everything can be settled," murmured Muffat in tones of relief; "we can come to an understanding." "The deuce, no! That would be too stupid!" cried Bordenave, mastered by his commercial instincts. "Ten thousand francs to let Rose go! Why, people would make game of me!"
An unendurable odor of old iron, rags and damp cardboard emanated from the various piles, where the debris of forgotten dramas had been collecting for half a century. "Come in," Bordenave repeated. "We shall be alone, at any rate." The count was extremely embarrassed, and he contrived to let the manager risk his proposal for him. Fauchery was astonished. "Eh? What?" he asked.
Then, while we were talking, he told me that he had once seen at Orthez a general whose name was Marbot. I told him that this was my father, and described him. Then the good man, whose name was Bordenave became even more solicitous and wanted to dry my clothes and offered me a bed for the night; but I thanked him and went on my way to Orthez, where I arrived at nightfall, completely worn out.
They looked colorless and unlovely, as became poor play actors who have got rid of their paint. On the stage, where the side lights and battens were being extinguished, the prince was listening to an anecdote Bordenave was telling him. He was waiting for Nana, and when at length she made her appearance the stage was dark, and the fireman on duty was finishing his round, lantern in hand.
And there was much to-do over his installation at the table. "In the middle, facing Nana!" was the cry. "Bordenave in the middle! He'll be our president!" Thereupon the ladies seated him in the middle. But he needed a second chair for his leg, and two girls lifted it up and stretched it carefully out. It wouldn't matter; he would eat sideways. "God blast it all!" he grumbled.
But Rose in her anger vouchsafed no answer. Whereupon Mignon in disdain left her to her feminine spite and, turning to Bordenave, who was once more on the stage with Fauchery and Muffat, said: "We'll sign tomorrow morning. Have the money in readiness." At this moment Nana, to whom Labordette had brought the news, came down to the stage in triumph.
I was aware that your theater " "Call it my brothel," Bordenave again interpolated with the frigid obstinacy of a man convinced. Meanwhile Fauchery, with extreme calmness, was looking at the women as they came in. He went to his cousin's rescue when he saw him all at sea and doubtful whether to laugh or to be angry.
"What d'you mean, idiotic?" cried the author, growing very pale. "It's you that are the idiot, my dear boy!" Bordenave began to get angry at once. He repeated the word "idiotic" and, seeking a more forcible expression, hit upon "imbecile" and "damned foolish." The public would hiss, and the act would never be finished!
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