“Fauchery!”
The count had been on the point of stopping him. But Fauchery did not hear him, for he had been pinned against the curtain by Fontan and was being compelled to listen patiently to the comedian’s reading of the part of Tardiveau. Fontan imagined Tardiveau to be a native of Marseilles with a dialect, and he imitated the dialect. He was repeating whole speeches. Was that right? Was this the thing? Apparently he was only submitting ideas to Fauchery of which he was himself uncertain, but as the author seemed cold and raised various objections, he grew angry at once.
Oh, very well, the moment the spirit of the part escaped him it would be better for all concerned that he shouldn’t act it at all!
“Fauchery!” shouted Bordenave once more.
Thereupon the young man ran off, delighted to escape from the actor, who was wounded not a little by his prompt retreat.
“Don’t let’s stay here,” continued Bordenave. “Come this way, gentlemen.”
In order to escape from curious listeners he led them into the property room behind the scenes, while Mignon watched their disappearance in some surprise. They went down a few steps and entered a square room, whose two windows opened upon the courtyard. A faint light stole through the dirty panes and hung wanly under the low ceiling. In pigeonholes and shelves, which filled the whole place up, lay a collection of the most varied kind of bric-a-brac. Indeed, it suggested an old-clothes shop in the Rue de Lappe in process of selling off, so indescribable was the hotchpotch of plates, gilt pasteboard cups, old red umbrellas, Italian jars, clocks in all styles, platters and inkpots, firearms and squirts, which lay chipped and broken and in unrecognizable heaps under a layer of dust an inch deep. An unendurable odor of old iron, rags and damp cardboard emanated from the various piles, where the débris of forgotten dramas had been collecting for half a century.
“Come in,” Bordenave repeated. “We shall be alone, at any rate.”
The count was extremely embarrassed, and he contrived to let the manager risk his proposal for him. Fauchery was astonished.
“Eh? What?” he asked.