"For a man who knows nothing of the profession--" "Oh! a soliloquy. I never listen to soliloquies, they are such bores." "So I think." "Well, then, to return to Octave. Well, you must know that he had seen Mademoiselle *** several times in her new character. You know the one I mean, in Scribe's play, and he fell in love with her--desperately in love." "_Parbleu!_" "He knew in the house of----" "My dear Auguste, pray do listen a little: Gercourt is a friend." "Why we are talking of one of the actresses in his play." "Besides soliloquies are always full of repetition." "Bravo! bravo!" "The devil!--This is rather strong, I should say: they do not risk these things in good society. "Yes, but under the regency." "Ah! there is Madame d'Hauterive and her sister in the minister's box. When free admissions fly about, they are sure to make a part of the audience." "'Pon my soul it's too bad with 8000 _l._ a-year." "Some people are so mean." "Well, now let us listen then; I will tell you poor Octave's history another time, for it evidently annoys Morville." "Yes, let us listen." "Ah! really now--that was very witty." "What a pity Mademoiselle *** has such a long neck!" "And how the lover talks through his nose!" "Ah! see the two club boxes are crammed." "They have evidently dined." "They'll all be turned out as surely as possible." "Look at D'Orville, pray do; his face is as red as a peony." "Capital!--he is really talking to the performers." "Yes, that's so like him; he is such a droll devil. I'll bet money that he's saying all sorts of odd things to them." "They are trying to make him quiet." "What a pity!--we were once together at the _Gaité_,--there was a sheep in the piece--we were in one of the stage-boxes, and D'Orville drew the _mutton_ along by his hind legs." "How very funny it must have been!" "It really was--but come--let us attend a little--hum! I say the plot seems rather intricate--eh?" "Why, to tell the truth, I do not comprehend one syllable of it." "Which is the father?--that one?" "In the mulberry suit?" "No, on the left side--the thin fellow, the distinguished individual who indulged in the soliloquy." "I don't know." "Don't you find the thing amusing?" "Decidedly otherwise." "What the devil could put it into Gercourt's noddle to write a play?" "Still that was a neatly turned idea." "Yes, but what an idea!" "True; but you hear how they are applauding. It may succeed, but it is decidedly weak." "First act is over--now for the second." "Well, gentlemen, what did I tell you?" "Between ourselves, my dear Morville, it is a pity that it begins so well." "How so?" "The remainder of the piece cannot certainly sustain this high tone." "That remains to be seen; I know the play, and now I have not the slightest doubt of its success." "Oh, you, Morville, are always an optimist; but, in fact, the progress of the plot is very much involved." "You did not listen to it."