Bordenave agitated the whole table with
the announcement that at one moment he had had the idea of bringing
with him Prulliere, Fontan and old Bosc. At this Nana looked sedate and
remarked dryly that she would have given them a pretty reception. Had
she wanted colleagues, she would certainly have undertaken to ask them
herself. No, no, she wouldn't have third-rate play actors. Old Bosc was
always drunk; Prulliere was fond of spitting too much, and as to Fontan,
he made himself unbearable in society with his loud voice and his stupid
doings. Then, you know, third-rate play actors were always out of place
when they found themselves in the society of gentlemen such as those
around her.
"Yes, yes, it's true," Mignon declared.
All round the table the gentlemen in question looked unimpeachable in
the extreme, what with their evening dress and their pale features, the
natural distinction of which was still further refined by fatigue. The
old gentleman was as deliberate in his movements and wore as subtle
a smile as though he were presiding over a diplomatic congress, and
Vandeuvres, with his exquisite politeness toward the ladies next to
him, seemed to be at one of the Countess Muffat's receptions.
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