"Did you get your stage box for Lucy?" asked Hector.
"Yes," replied his companion, "but I had some trouble to get it. Oh,
there's no danger of Lucy coming too early!"
He stifled a slight yawn; then after a pause:
"You're in luck's way, you are, since you haven't been at a first night
before. The Blonde Venus will be the event of the year. People have been
talking about it for six months. Oh, such music, my dear boy! Such a
sly dog, Bordenave! He knows his business and has kept this for the
exhibition season." Hector was religiously attentive. He asked a
question.
"And Nana, the new star who's going to play Venus, d'you know her?"
"There you are; you're beginning again!" cried Fauchery, casting up his
arms. "Ever since this morning people have been dreeing me with Nana.
I've met more than twenty people, and it's Nana here and Nana there!
What do I know? Am I acquainted with all the light ladies in Paris? Nana
is an invention of Bordenave's! It must be a fine one!"
He calmed himself, but the emptiness of the house, the dim light of
the luster, the churchlike sense of self-absorption which the place
inspired, full as it was of whispering voices and the sound of doors
banging--all these got on his nerves.
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