Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [72]
“Hallo! good evening,” said Fontan, shaking hands with Fauchery and Mignon who just then entered.
Even old Bosc held out a finger, whilst the two women embraced Mignon.
“Is there a good house to-night?” inquired Fauchery.
“Oh! superb!” answered Prullière. “You should see how they’re all taking it in!”
“I say, my children,” remarked Mignon, “it’s time for you to go on, isn’t it?”
“Yes, shortly.” They did not appear till the fourth scene. Bosc alone rose, with the instinct of an old veteran of the boards who scents his cue from afar. And at that moment the old call-boy appeared at the door. “Monsieur Bosc! Mademoiselle Simone!” he cried.
Simone quickly threw a fur cloak over her shoulders, and hastened out. Bosc, without hurrying himself, fetched his crown and banged it on his head. Then, dragging his mantle after him, he went off, unsteady on his legs, grunting, and with the annoyed look of a man who has been disturbed.
“You said some very kind things in your last article,” remarked Fontan to Fauchery. “Only why did you state that comedians are vain?”
“Yes, young ’un, why did you say that?” exclaimed Mignon, bringing his enormous hands down on the journalist’s slender shoulders so roughly that the latter sank beneath the shock.
Prullière and Clarisse with difficulty refrained from laughing. For some time past the members of the company had been highly amused by a comedy that was being performed behind the scenes. Mignon, rendered furious by his wife’s infatuation, disgusted at seeing that Fauchery never contributed towards their expenses anything more than a questionable publicity, had conceived the brilliant idea of avenging himself by overwhelming the journalist with various proofs of his friendship. Every evening, when he met him behind the scenes, he quite belaboured him with blows, as though carried away by an excess of affection; and Fauchery, looking most puny beside this colossus, was obliged to submit, smiling the while in a constrained manner, so as not to quarrel with Rose’s husband.
“Ah! my fine fellow, so you insult Fontan!” resumed Mignon, continuing the farce. “Attention! One, two, and full in the chest!”
He had struck out and hit the young man so severe a blow that the latter remained for an instant very pale and quite speechless. But, with a wink of her eye, Clarisse drew the others’ attention to Rose Mignon, who was standing in the doorway. Rose had seen all that had passed. She went straight up to the journalist, as though unaware of her husband’s presence, and standing on tiptoe, her arms bare, and in her baby costume, she offered her forehead to him with a childish pout.
“Good evening, baby,” said Fauchery, familiarly kissing her.
That was his reward. Mignon pretended not to notice the embrace; every one kissed his wife at the theatre. But he laughed as he cast a rapid glance at the journalist. The latter would certainly pay dearly for Rose’s temerity. The door of the passage opened and shut, admitting the sound of tempestuous applause into the green-room. Simone had returned after going through her scene.
“Oh! old Bosc made such a hit!” cried she. “The prince was wriggling with laughter, and he applauded just like the others as though he had been paid to do so. I say, do you know the tall gentleman who is sitting beside the prince, in the stage-box? A handsome man, looking most dignified, and he’s got such lovely whiskers.”
“It’s Count Muffat,” replied Fauchery. “I know that the day before yesterday, at the Empress’s, the prince invited him to dinner for this evening. He probably prevailed upon him to come here afterwards.”
“Count Muffat! why we know his father-in-law, don’t we, Augustus?” asked Rose of Mignon. “You know the Marquis de Chouard, at whose house I went to sing? He is also here to-night.