of it. This theatre always looks as if it were at the bottom
of the sea. And to think that I, too, in a moment, have to enter that
aquarium. Nanteuil, you must not stop longer than one season in this
theatre. One is drowned in it. But look at them, look at them!"

Durville was becoming almost ventriloqual in order to seem more solemn
and more virile:

"Peace, the abolition of the combined martial and civil law, and of
conscription, higher pay for the troops; in the absence of funds, a few
drafts on the bank, a few commissions suitably distributed, these are
infallible means."

Madame Doulce entered the box. Unfastening her cloak with its pathetic
lining of old rabbit-skin, she produced a small dog's-eared book.

"They are Madame de Sevigne's letters," she said. "You know that next
Sunday I am going to give a reading of the best of Madame de Sevigne's
letters."

"Where?" asked Fagette.

"Salle Renard."

It must have been some remote and little known hall, for Nanteuil and
Fagette had not heard of it.

"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. It was Constantin Marc, the
youthful author of a play, _La Grille_, which the Odeon was going to
rehearse immediately; and Constantin Marc, although a countryman living
in the forest, could henceforth breathe only in the theatre. Nanteuil
was to take the principal part in the play. He gazed upon her with
emotion, as the precious amphora destined to be the receptacle of his
thought.

Meanwhile Durville continued hoarsely:

"If our France can be saved only at the price of our life and honour, I
shall say, with the man of '93: 'Perish our memory!'"

Fagette pointed her finger at a bloated youth, who was sitting in the
orchestra, resting his chin on his walking-stick.

"Isn't that Baron Deutz?"

"Need you ask!" replied Nanteuil. "Ellen Midi is in the cast. She plays
in the fourth act. Baron Deutz has come to display himself."

"Just wait a minute, my children; I have a word to say to that
ill-mannered cub. He met me yesterday in the Place de la Concorde, and
he didn't bow to me."

"What, Baron Deutz? He couldn't have seen you!"

"He saw me perfectly well. But he was with his people.