But he was not listened to. The dining-room was already full, and yet more anxious dress-coats rose up at the door. In front of the sideboards, stood groups eating quickly and pressing closely together. A good many swallowed without drinking, not having been able to set their hands on a glass. Others, on the contrary, drank after fruitlessly running about for a morsel of bread. "Listen," said Monsieur Hupel de la Noue, whom Mignon and Charrier, weary of mythology, had led to the buffet, "we sha'n't get anything if we don't help each other. It's much worse at the Tuileries, and I have acquired some experience there. You look after the wine, and I'll see to the meat." The prefect was watching a leg of mutton. He stretched out his hand, at the right moment, through a break in the surrounding shoulders, and quietly carried it off, after filling his pockets with little rolls. The contractors returned from their side, Mignon with one bottle, and Charrier with two bottles of champagne; but they had only been able to secure two glasses; they said, however, that it did not matter, that they would drink out of the same. And the party supped on the corner of a flowerstand at the end of the room. They did not even take off their gloves, but put the slices of mutton already cut between their bread, and kept the bottles under their arms. And standing up, they talked with their mouths full, stretching out their chins in advance of their waistcoats so that the gravy might fall on to the carpet. Charrier, having finished his wine before his bread, asked a servant if he could not have a glass of champagne. "You must wait, sir," angrily replied the scared servant, losing his head and forgetting he was no longer in the kitchen. "Three hundred bottles have already been drunk." However, one could hear the notes of the orchestra swelling with sudden gusts. Couples were footing the polka called "The Kisses," famous at public balls, and the rhythm of which each dancer had to mark by kissing his partner. Madame d'Espanet appeared at the door of the dining-room, flushed, her hair slightly disordered, and trailing her silver robe with charming lassitude. People barely drew aside, and she had to shove with her elbows to obtain a passage. She made the round of the table, hesitating, a pout on her lips. Then she went straight to Monsieur Hupel de la Noue who had finished, and, who was wiping his mouth with his pocket-handkerchief. "You would be very amiable, sir," she said to him with an adorable smile, "if you would find me a chair! I have been round the table fruitlessly--"