[In a sing-song]: To the ring—to the ring—
Mancini
I want to tell you something, He. You are not going yet?
He
No. I'll take a rest.
Briquet
To the ring—to the ring—
[The clowns as they go sing in shrill, squeaky voices. Little by little they all disappear, and loud music begins. He seats himself on the sofa with his legs crossed, and yawns.]
Mancini
He, you have something none of my ancestors ever had—money. Let's have a nice bottle on you. Waiter, please—[The waiter who was taking up dishes, brings a bottle of wine and glasses and goes out.]