the play, constantly on the alert for the bell to ring him to his duty
among the ropes. And amid the close air and the shuffling of feet and
the sound of whispering, the voices of the actors on the stage sounded
strange, deadened, surprisingly discordant. Farther off again, above the
confused noises of the band, a vast breathing sound was audible. It was
the breath of the house, which sometimes swelled up till it burst in
vague rumors, in laughter, in applause. Though invisible, the presence
of the public could be felt, even in the silences.

"There's something open," said Nana sharply, and with that she tightened
the folds of her fur cloak. "Do look, Barillot. I bet they've just
opened a window. Why, one might catch one's death of cold here!"

Barillot swore that he had closed every window himself but suggested
that possibly there were broken panes about. The actors were always
complaining of drafts. Through the heavy warmth of that gaslit region
blasts of cold air were constantly passing--it was a regular influenza
trap, as Fontan phrased it.

"I should like to see YOU in a low-cut dress," continued Nana, growing
annoyed.

"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. Indeed,
he obtained an oblique back view of the scenery and of the wings which
had been strengthened, as it were, by a thick layer of old posters. Then
he caught sight of a corner of the stage, of the Etna cave hollowed
out in a silver mine and of Vulcan's forge in the background. Battens,
lowered from above, lit up a sparkling substance which had been laid on
with large dabs of the brush. Side lights with red glasses and blue were
so placed as to produce the appearance of a fiery brazier, while on the
floor of the stage, in the far background, long lines of gaslight had
been laid down in order to throw a wall of dark rocks into sharp relief.
Hard by on a gentle, "practicable" incline, amid little points of light
resembling the illumination lamps scattered about in the grass on the
night of a public holiday, old Mme Drouard, who played Juno, was sitting
dazed and sleepy, waiting for her cue.

Presently there was a commotion, for Simonne, while listening to a story
Clarisse was telling her, crie