crumpled manuscript book out of his pocket and fingered
its leaves feverishly, as though he were just about to throw it on
Cossard's lap. His pale face was convulsed by outraged vanity; his lips
were drawn and thin, his eyes flamed; he was quite unable to conceal the
struggle that was going on inside him. To think that he, Prulliere, the
idol of the public, should play a part of only two hundred lines!

"Why not make me bring in letters on a tray?" he continued bitterly.

"Come, come, Prulliere, behave decently," said Bordenave, who was
anxious to treat him tenderly because of his influence over the boxes.
"Don't begin making a fuss. We'll find some points. Eh, Fauchery, you'll
add some points? In the third act it would even be possible to lengthen
a scene out."

"Well then, I want the last speech of all," the comedian declared. "I
certainly deserve to have it."

Fauchery's silence seemed to give consent, and Prulliere, still greatly
agitated and discontented despite everything, put his part back into his
pocket. Bosc and Fontan had appeared profoundly indifferent during the
course of this explanation. Let each man fight for his own hand, they
reflected; the present dispute had nothing to do with them; they had
no interest therein! All the actors clustered round Fauchery and began
questioning him and fishing for praise, while Mignon listened to the
last of Prulliere's complaints without, however, losing sight of Count
Muffat, whose return he had been on the watch for.

Entering in the half-light, the count had paused at the back of the
stage, for he hesitated to interrupt the quarrel. But Bordenave caught
sight of him and ran forward.

"Aren't they a pretty lot?" he muttered. "You can have no idea what I've
got to undergo with that lot, Monsieur le Comte. Each man's vainer than
his neighbor, and they're wretched players all the same, a scabby lot,
always mixed up in some dirty business or other! Oh, they'd be delighted
if I were to come to smash. But I beg pardon--I'm getting beside
myself."

He ceased speaking, and silence reigned while Muffat sought how to
broach his announcement gently. But he failed and, in order to get out
of his difficulty the more quickly, ended by an abrupt announcement:

"Nana wants the duchess's part."

Bordenave gave a start and shouted:

"Come now, it's sheer madness!"

Then looking at the count and finding him so pale and so shaken, he was
calm at once.

"Devil take it!" he s