Meanwhile the worn-looking artistes were dropping off one after the
other in their outdoor coats. Groups of men and women were coming down
the little winding staircase, and the outlines of battered hats and
worn-out shawls were visible in the shadows. 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. Bordenave, in order to save His Highness going about by the
Passage des Panoramas, had made them open the corridor which led from
the porter's lodge to the entrance hall of the theater. Along this
narrow alley little women were racing pell-mell, for they were delighted
to escape from the men who were waiting for them in the other passage.
They went jostling and elbowing along, casting apprehensive glances
behind them and only breathing freely when they got outside. Fontan,
Bosc and Prulliere, on the other hand, retired at a leisurely pace,
joking at the figure cut by the serious, paying admirers who were
striding up and down the Galerie des Varietes at a time when the little
dears were escaping along the boulevard with the men of their hearts.
But Clarisse was especially sly. She had her suspicions about La
Faloise, and, as a matter of fact, he was still in his place in the
lodge among the gentlemen obstinately waiting on Mme Bron's chairs. They
all stretched forward, and with that she passed brazenly by in the wake
of a friend. The gentlemen were blinking in bewilderment over the wild
whirl of petticoats eddying at the foot of the narrow stairs. It made
them desperate to think they had waited so long, only to see them all
flying away like this without being able to recognize a single one.
The litter of little black cats were sleeping on the oilcloth, nestled
against their mother's belly, and the latter was stretching her paws
out in a state of beatitude while the big tortoise-shell cat sat at the
other end of the table, her tail stretched out behind her and her yellow
eyes solemnly following the flight of the women.

"If His Highness will be good enough to come this way," said Bordenave
at the bottom of the stairs, and he pointed to the passage.

Some chorus girls were still crowding alo