begin right away in the entr' acte.

Janina shuddered as though something unclean had touched her. A cold
chill passed through her and a blush of shame and humiliation
covered her face.

"What filth!" she whispered to herself; Sophie, unconscious of her
was all smiling and radiant on the stage.

Sophie's long thin mouth like that of a greyhound merely flashed now
and then in the wild tempo of the waltz she was performing. She
danced with such temperament and skill that a storm of applause
greeted her. Someone even threw her a bouquet. She picked it up and,
retreating from the stage, smiled coquettishly like a veteran
actress, sniffing in with distended nostrils those signs of the
public's satisfaction.

"Miss Janina," she cried behind the scenes. "Look, I got a bouquet!
Now Cabinski must give me a raise. They came especially to see me
dance . . . Do you hear how they are recalling me!" and she leaped
out upon the open stage to bow to the public.

"Your stage prating isn't worth a fig!" she said to the actresses.
"If it weren't for the dance the theater would be empty." And she
pirouetted on tiptoe, laughed triumphantly and went off to her
dressing-room.

The company had begun to play an act of a very lachrymose drama
entitled The Daughter of Fabricius. Topolski appeared in the role of
Fabricius and Majkowska impersonated his daughter. They played
entirely well although Topolski was still so drunk that he didn't
know where he was, but he nevertheless acted so perfectly that no
one was aware of it. Only Stanislawski stood behind the scenes and
laughed aloud at his automatic motions and the blank expression of
his eyes. Majkowska was upholding Topolski every now and then, for
he would have fallen on the stage.

"Mirowska! come here and see how they are acting!" called
Stanislawski to the old actress who was to-day apathetically
disposed, his eyes glowing with feverish animosity.

"That is my role! I ought to be playing it. Look what he has made of
it, the drunken beast!" he hissed between his tightly set teeth. And
when, applause, that was in spite of everything, merited, broke out,
Stanislawski became pale with rage and grasped at one of the scenes
to keep from falling over, so great an envy was choking him.

"Cattle! Cattle!" he whispered hoarsely, shaking his fist
threateningly at the public.

Then he went to look for the stage-director but being unable to find
him, came back. He continued to walk about e