The prince seated himself by the Marquis de Chouard on the divan, and
Count Muffat alone remained standing. In that suffocating heat the two
glasses of champagne they had drunk had increased their intoxication.
Satin, when she saw the gentlemen thus closeting themselves with her
friend, had deemed it discreet to vanish behind the curtain, where
she sat waiting on a trunk, much annoyed at being compelled to remain
motionless, while Mme Jules came and went quietly without word or look.
"You sang your numbers marvelously," said the prince.
And with that they began a conversation, but their sentences were short
and their pauses frequent. Nana, indeed, was not always able to reply.
After rubbing cold cream over her arms and face with the palm of her
hand she laid on the grease paint with the corner of a towel. For one
second only she ceased looking in the glass and smilingly stole a glance
at the prince.
"His Highness is spoiling me," she murmured without putting down the
grease paint.
Her task was a complicated one, and the Marquis de Chouard followed it
with an expression of devout enjoyment. He spoke in his turn.
"Could not the band accompany you more softly?" he said. "It drowns your
voice, and that's an unpardonable crime.
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