"To the stage, everybody! . . . The people to the stage! The priests to the stage! The soldiers to the stage!" shouted the stage-director, rushing from one dressing-room to the other.
After a moment, all had vanished.
It was well after ten o'clock, the next morning at her hotel when Janina awoke, worn-out completely; for the moment, she could not understand, where she was.
She no longer felt any of yesterday's feverish raptures, but rather a quiet gladness that she was already in the theater. At moments, the bright tone of her mood was overcast by some shadow, some presentiment, or unconscious memory from the past; it was the glimmering of something unpleasant which, although it quickly vanished, left traces of uneasiness.
She hastily drank her tea and was about to go out, when someone gently rapped at the door.
"Come in!" she called.
There entered an old Jewish woman, neatly dressed, with a big box under her arm.
"Good morning, miss!"
"Good morning," she answered, surprised by the visit.
"Perhaps you will buy something, miss? . . . I have good, cheap wares. Perhaps you need some jewelry? Perhaps some gloves or hairpins, they are pure silver. I have all kinds of articles at different prices and all are genuine Parisian goods! . . ." she chattered on rapidly, spreading the contents of her box on the table, while her little black eyes with heavy red lids, like the eyes of a hawk, wandered about the room and took stock of everything.