"Yes, I did," said the Colonel; "I wondered what the exclamations from all over the house meant."
"Try to find a portrait of Gurn in some one of the illustrated papers," said the Comte, "and compare it with---- Ah, I think this is Valgrand coming!"
The Baronne de Vibray had tired of her conversation with the old dresser, Charlot, and had left him to take up her stand outside the dressing-room, where she greeted with nods and smiles the other actors and actresses as they hurried by on their way home, and listened to the sounds at the end of the passage. Presently a voice became distinguishable, the voice of Valgrand singing a refrain from a musical comedy. The Baronne de Vibray hurried to meet him, with both hands outstretched, and led him into his dressing-room.
"Let me present M. Valgrand!" she exclaimed, and then presented the two young women to the bowing actor: "Comtesse Marcelline de Baral, Mme. Holbord."
"Pardon me, ladies, for keeping you waiting," the actor said. "I was deep in conversation with the Minister. He was so charming, so kind!" He turned to the Baronne de Vibray. "He did me the honour to offer me a cigarette! A relic! Charlot! Charlot! You must put this cigarette in the little box where all my treasures are!"
"It is very full already, M. Valgrand," said Charlot deprecatingly.
"We must not keep you long," the Baronne de Vibray murmured. "You must be very tired."
Valgrand passed a weary hand across his brow.
"Positively exhausted!" Then he raised his head and looked at the company. "What did you think of me?"
A chorus of eulogy sprang from every lip.
"Splendid!" "Wonderful!" "The very perfection of art!"
"No, but really?" protested Valgrand, swelling with satisfied vanity. "Tell me candidly: was it really good?"
"You really were wonderful: could not have been better," the Baronne de Vibray exclaimed enthusiastically, and the crowd of worshippers endorsed every word, until the artist was convinced that their praise was quite sincere.
"How I have worked!" he exclaimed: "do you know, when rehearsals began--ask Charlot if this isn't true--the piece simply didn't exist!"
"Simply didn't exist!" Charlot corroborated him, like an echo.
"Didn't exist," Valgrand repeated: "not even my part. It was insignificant, flat! So I took the author aside and I said: 'Frantz, my boy, I'll tell you what you must do: you know the lawyer's speech? Absurd! What am I to do while he is delivering it? I'll make the speech for my own defence, and I'll get something out of it!' And the prison scene! Just fancy, he had shoved a parson into that! I said to Frantz: 'Cut the parson out, my boy: what the dickens am I to do while he is preaching? Simply nothing at all: it's absurd. Give his speech to me! I'll preach to myself!' And there you are: I don't want to boast, but really I did it all! And it was a success, eh?"