PART FIRST

I


The third act of L'Africaine had just come to a close.

The minister, on leaving the manager's box, said smilingly, like a man
glad to be rid of the cares of State: "Let us go to the greenroom,
Granet, shall we?"

"Let us go to the greenroom, as your Excellency proposes!"

They were obliged to cross the immense stage where the stage carpenters
were busy with the stage accessories as sailors with the equipment of a
vessel; and men in evening dress, with white ties, looked natty without
their greatcoats, and with opera hats on their heads were going to and
fro, picking their way amongst the ropes and other impedimenta which
littered the stage, on their way to the greenroom of the ballet.

They had come here from all parts of the house, from the stalls and
boxes; most of them humming as they went the air from Nélusko's ballad,
walking lightly as habitués through the species of antechamber which
separates the body of the house from the stage.

A servant wearing a white cravat, was seated at a table writing down
upon a sheet of paper the names of those who came in. One side of this
sheet bore a headline reading: _Messieurs_, and the other _Médecin_, in
two columns. From time to time this man would get up from his chair to
bow respectfully to some official personage whom he recognized.