René, having in his bashful way gone up alone among the last, chose an empty seat between the Vicomte de Brèves and the fair woman in red whom Larcher and he had met in the ante-room, and whom Claude had spoken of as Madame Moraines, the daughter of the famous Bois-Dauffin, one of the most unpopular ministers of Napoleon III. Feeling quite unobserved where he was, for Madame Moraines was carrying on a conversation with her neighbour on the left whilst the Vicomte de Brèves was busily engaged with his partner on the right, René was at length able to collect his thoughts and to take a look at the guests, behind whom the servants were continually passing to and fro as they attended to their wants. His glance wandered from Colette, who was laughing and flirting with Salvaney, to Madame Komof, no doubt telling some fresh tale of her spirit experiences, for her eyes had resumed their piercing brilliancy, her looks were agitated, and her long bejewelled hands trembled as she sat oblivious of all around her table--she generally so attentive and so eager to please her guests! René's feeling of solitude had now become almost painful in its intensity, either because the varied sensations undergone that evening had tried his nerves or because the sudden transition from flattery to neglect appeared to him a symbol of the worthlessness of the world's applause. Some of the women who had overwhelmed him with praise were gone; the others had naturally chosen seats near their own friends. At the other end of the table he could see himself reflected in the actor who had taken the part of Lorenzo, the only one of the players besides Colette who had stayed to supper, and who, looking very stiff and awkward in his gorgeous attire, was doing justice to the viands without exchanging a word with anyone.