Then all began to talk at once, and every one asked for something else, and there arose a very Babel of confusion. At the top of the staircase Paul made a gesture of despair, but no one took any notice.
“I am utterly worn out!” said he, crouching down in impotent rage. “No one does anything. It all falls to my lot!”
Madame Verstraeten, having in her turn begged Lili to rest herself, had gone to tell the servants not to forget the youthful artistes. As a result, the men soon came in, carrying big trays laden with glasses of wine and lemonade, pastry and sandwiches. The confusion only increased. The three boys were served with various good things on their mattress, over which one of the servants spilt a stream of lemonade. Up flew Marie, in a torrent of rage, and with Dien’s assistance quickly pulled the mattress away from under the boys, into the next room.
“Frédérique, do give a hand there,” cried Paul, in a voice shrill with irritation. As for keeping any further sort of control over the three lads, that he had given up as hopeless. Ere long, however, the noisy young customers were driven, loudly shrieking and stumbling one over another, out of the room by Dien.
Then there was a little more quietness, but everybody was doing something, except Lili.
“There’s a muddle!” she muttered to herself. Then she sat down and brushed her hair, wavy and blond cendré, and that done, she took up her powder-puff, and sprinkled a snowy layer over her arms.
Dien returned, very much out of breath, shaking her head, and with a kindly smile on her face.
“Dien, white sheets and tulle quickly,” Freddie, Marie, and Paul [[6]]all cried together. Paul came down from his place on the stairs, placed the big cross, the weight of which nearly crushed him, on the platform, and at the foot he laid the mattress and a snug arrangement of pillows.
“Dien, white sheets and tulle; all the tulle and muslin you can find.”
And Dien and the other servants brought it, one soft mass of white.