Gold entered and bowed to the company, tugging at his sparse, yellow little beard. "How are you, goldfish?" "Hey there, Treasurer! Oh pearl of treasurers, come over to us." The treasurer bowed, paying no attention to the jibes that were hurled at him. "Mrs. Directress will pardon me for coming late, but my family lives in the Jewish quarter and I really had to stay with them till the end of the Sabbath," he explained to Cabinska. "Have a seat, sir. If you can't eat, you're at least allowed to drink," invited Cabinski, making room for Gold alongside himself. Gold located himself carefully and began to eat. When the company had forgotten him a bit, he ventured to address them: "I have brought you the latest news, for I see no one knows it, as yet. . . ." He took a newspaper from his side pocket and began to read aloud: "Miss Snilowska, the noted and talented artist of the provincial theaters, playing under the pseudonym of 'Nicolette' has received permission to make her debut in the Warsaw Theater. She will make her first appearance next Tuesday in Sardou's Odette. We hope that the management, in engaging Miss Snilowska, has added a very valuable acquisition to the stage." He folded away the paper and calmly continued to eat. The company was struck dumb with amazement. "Nicolette on the Warsaw stage! . . . Nicolette making her debut! . . . Nicolette! . . ." they whispered with subdued voices. Everybody began to look at Majkowska and Pepa, but both were silent. Majkowska's face wore a scornful expression while Pepa, unable to conceal the anger that raged within her, tore distractedly at the lace on her sleeves. "No doubt she is now blessing that intrigue that caused her to leave us, for it helped instead of harming her," said someone. "Or else it was her talent that helped her!" intentionally added Kotlicki. "Talent?" cried Cabinska, "Nicolette and talent! Ha! ha! ha! Why she could not even play a chambermaid on our stage!" "Nevertheless in the Warsaw Theater she will play the second-best roles," interposed Kotlicki. "The Warsaw Theater! The Warsaw Theater! That is a still poorer show than ours!" added Glas. "Ho! ho! what do the Warsaw Theater and its actors amount to! . . . Nothing great, to be sure!" shouted Krzykiewicz, all flushed with drinking as he filled the landlady's glass with wine. "Only pay us such salaries as their actors get, and you will see who we are!" called Piesh. "That's true! Piesh is right. Who can think only of art when his rent is in arrears?" "That's a falsehood! That would mean that you could make an artist of any swineherd whom you fed," called Stanislawski across the table. "Poverty is a fire that burns rubbish, but the true metal only comes out of it all the purer," quickly said Topolski.