When Funiculi Funiculà was over he sat on the wooden chair provided for him and wiped his face. His hands shook. He beckoned me to come near.
"Do I look too grotesque a mountebank Tomfool?" he asked in English.
He was wearing the pearl-buttoned velveteen suit whose magnificence he had enhanced by newly purchased steel-buckled shoes and black stockings, and to a less bigoted worshipper than me I suppose he must have looked a mountebank Tomfool; but I only gaped at his question.
"Do I?" he repeated almost fiercely.
"You look beautiful, Master," said I.
He passed his lean fingers wearily over his eyes. "Pardon, my little Asticot. There are things in Heaven and Earth etc. Myriads of Mysteries. As many in the heart of man as in your Wonder Houses yonder. Get me some brandy. Three petits verres poured into a tumbler."
I went off to the restaurant and obtained the drink. When I returned they were playing the mocking chorus that runs through "Orphée aux Enfers."
The number over, Paragot drained the glass at one gulp. The company broke into unusual applause. Some one shouted "Bis!"
"Get me some more," said he. "Do you know why I chose that tune?"
"No, Master."