he bell ceased a shout ran up
the stair and down it till it was lost along the passages. "All on the
stage for the second act! All on the stage for the second act!" The
sound drew near, and a little pale-faced man passed by the greenroom
doors, outside each of which he yelled at the top of his shrill voice,
"On the stage for the second act!"

"The deuce, it's champagne!" said Prulliere without appearing to hear
the din. "You're prospering!"

"If I were you I should have it in from the cafe," old Bosc slowly
announced. He was sitting on a bench covered with green velvet, with his
head against the wall.

But Simonne said that it was one's duty to consider Mme Bron's small
perquisites. She clapped her hands excitedly and devoured Fontan with
her gaze while his long goatlike visage kept up a continuous twitching
of eyes and nose and mouth.

"Oh, that Fontan!" she murmured. "There's no one like him, no one like
him!"

The two greenroom doors stood wide open to the corridor leading to the
wings. And along the yellow wall, which was brightly lit up by a gas
lamp out of view, passed a string of rapidly moving shadows--men in
costume, women with shawls over their scant attire, in a word, the
whole of the characters in the second act, who would shortly make their
appearance as masqeuraders in the ball at the Boule Noire. And at the
end of the corridor became audible a shuffling of feet as these people
clattered down the five wooden steps which led to the stage. As the big
Clarisse went running by Simonne called to her, but she said she would
be back directly. And, indeed, she reappeared almost at once, shivering
in the thin tunic and scarf which she wore as Iris.

"God bless me!" she said. "It isn't warm, and I've left my furs in my
dressing room!"

Then as she stood toasting her legs in their warm rose-colored tights in
front of the fireplace she resumed:

"The prince has arrived."

"Oh!" cried the rest with the utmost curiosity.

"Yes, that's why I ran down: I wanted to see. He's in the first stage
box to the right, the same he was in on Thursday. It's the third time
he's been this week, eh? That's Nana; well, she's in luck's way! I was
willing to wager he wouldn't come again."

Simonne opened her lips to speak, but her remarks were drowned by a
fresh shout which arose close to the greenroom. In the passage the
callboy was yelling at the top of his shrill voice, "They've knocked!"

"Three times!" said Simonne wh