g their coats with dust. They barred the way. A
sceneshifter had even stopped Fauchery's hat just when the devilish
thing was going to bound onto the stage in the middle of the struggle.
Meanwhile Vulcan, who had been gagging away to amuse the audience, gave
Rose her cue a second time. But she stood motionless, still gazing at
the two men.

"Oh, don't look at THEM!" Bordenave furiously whispered to her. "Go on
the stage; go on, do! It's no business of yours! Why, you're missing
your cue!"

And with a push from the manager, Rose stepped over the prostrate bodies
and found herself in the flare of the footlights and in the presence of
the audience. She had quite failed to understand why they were fighting
on the floor behind her. Trembling from head to foot and with a humming
in her ears, she came down to the footlights, Diana's sweet, amorous
smile on her lips, and attacked the opening lines of her duet with so
feeling a voice that the public gave her a veritable ovation.

Behind the scenery she could hear the dull thuds caused by the two men.
They had rolled down to the wings, but fortunately the music covered the
noise made by their feet as they kicked against them.

"By God!" yelled Bordenave in exasperation when at last he had succeeded
in separating them. "Why couldn't you fight at home? You know as well as
I do that I don't like this sort of thing. You, Mignon, you'll do me the
pleasure of staying over here on the prompt side, and you, Fauchery,
if you leave the O.P. side I'll chuck you out of the theater. You
understand, eh? Prompt side and O.P. side or I forbid Rose to bring you
here at all."

When he returned to the prince's presence the latter asked what was the
matter.

"Oh, nothing at all," he murmured quietly.

Nana was standing wrapped in furs, talking to these gentlemen while
awaiting her cue. As Count Muffat was coming up in order to peep between
two of the wings at the stage, he understood from a sign made him by the
stage manager that he was to step softly. Drowsy warmth was streaming
down from the flies, and in the wings, which were lit by vivid patches
of light, only a few people remained, talking in low voices or making
off on tiptoe. The gasman was at his post amid an intricate arrangement
of cocks; a fireman, leaning against the side lights, was craning
forward, trying to catch a glimpse of things, while on his seat, high
up, the curtain man was watching with resigned expression, careless of