"
Nana dead! It was a blow to them all. Without a word Muffat had gone
back to the bench, his face still buried in his handkerchief. The others
burst into exclamations, but they were cut short, for a fresh band
passed by, howling, "A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!" Nana dead! Hang it,
and such a fine girl too! Mignon sighed and looked relieved, for at last
Rose would come down. A chill fell on the company. Fontan, meditating a
tragic role, had assumed a look of woe and was drawing down the corners
of his mouth and rolling his eyes askance, while Fauchery chewed his
cigar nervously, for despite his cheap journalistic chaff he was really
touched. Nevertheless, the two women continued to give vent to their
feelings of surprise. The last time Lucy had seen her was at the Gaite;
Blanche, too, had seen her in Melusine. Oh, how stunning it was, my
dear, when she appeared in the depths of the crystal grot! The gentlemen
remembered the occasion perfectly. Fontan had played the Prince
Cocorico. And their memories once stirred up, they launched into
interminable particulars. How ripping she looked with that rich coloring
of hers in the crystal grot! Didn't she, now? She didn't say a word:
the authors had even deprived her of a line or two, because it was
superfluous.
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