Franz von Heidenbrunn was again in the audience. Whether he visited Mitzi in the entre-acte I cannot say—I did not, having no desire to be turned away again.
I also went to see the third performance, which was exactly like the second one. The same kind of audience, thirsting for a sensation, and for the third time Franz von Heidenbrunn among the spectators.
As we travelled back to Vienna, Mitzi and I, we had a few words about her chemise in the last scene.
"Was this the same chemise you had the two first times?" I asked her.
"No," she replied laughing, "you do expect a lady to put fresh linen on from time to time, don't you?"
"That chemise was shorter than the other," I remarked, more sternly than I had intended to.
"Oh! An inch or two perhaps."
"An inch is much in those latitudes," I jested.
"Look here, Patrick," she answered sullenly. "Let me alone with your remonstrances. You ought to know by now that I do my best for your opera, which would have been a complete failure without me."