To Janina it seemed that they were all staring at her and that the waiters, as they passed with their hands full of beer-glasses and plates, cast such strange glances that she blushed in spite of herself. Presently the waiter returned, bringing the coffee she had ordered. "Do you wish to see the director, madame?" "Yes." "He is sitting there in the first row of seats. That short man in a white vest . . . there! Do you see him?" "I do. Thank you!" "Shall I tell him you wish to speak to him?" "No. Anyway he seems to be busy." "He is only chatting." "And who are those gentlemen with whom he is talking?" "They are also members of our company--actors." She paid for the coffee, giving the waiter a ruble. He fumbled about a long time, as though looking for change, but, seeing that she was gazing in another direction, he bowed and thanked her. Having finished her coffee, Janina went into the hall. She passed by the director and took a cursory look at him. All that she saw was a large, pale, anaemic face, covered with grayish splotches. A few actors standing near him impressed her as handsome people. She noticed in their gestures, their smooth shaven faces, their easy, smiling airs something so superior to the men whom she had hitherto known, that she listened to their conversation with rapt attention. The uncurtained stage, wrapt in darkness, drew her with its hidden mystery. For the first time Janina saw the theater at close range and the actors off stage. The theater seemed to her like a Grecian temple and those people, whose profiles she had before her, and whose eloquent voices sounded in her ears, seemed like true priests of art. She was regarding everything about her with interest, when she suddenly noticed that the waiter who had served her was whispering something to the director and pointing to her with a slight gesture. There ran through Janina a tremor of fear, strange and depressing. She did not look up again, but felt that someone was approaching, that someone's glances were resting on her head and encircling her figure. She was still at a loss how to begin and what to say, but felt that she must speak. She arose when she noticed Cabinski standing before her. "I am Mr. Cabinski, the director." She stood there unable to utter a word. "You deigned to ask for me, madame?" he queried with a courteous bow, signifying that he was ready to listen to her. "Yes . . . if you please . . . Mr. Director. I wished to ask you . . . perhaps you could," she stuttered, unable for the moment to find the right words to express what she wished to say. "Pray rest a little, madame, and calm yourself. Is it something very important?" he whispered, bending toward her and at the same time winking significantly to the actors who were looking on. "Oh, it is very important!" she answered, meeting his gaze. "I wish to ask you, Mr. Director, if you would accept me as a member of your company."