La Faloise declared her to be quite the thing; only he ventured to
opine that she would be better still if she were to cultivate her voice.
Steiner, who was no longer listening, seemed to awake with a start.
Whatever happens, one must wait, he thought. Perhaps everything will be
spoiled in the following acts. The public had shown complaisance, but it
was certainly not yet taken by storm. Mignon swore that the piece would
never finish, and when Fauchery and La Faloise left them in order to
go up to the foyer he took Steiner's arm and, leaning hard against his
shoulder, whispered in his ear:

"You're going to see my wife's costume for the second act, old fellow.
It IS just blackguardly."

Upstairs in the foyer three glass chandeliers burned with a brilliant
light. The two cousins hesitated an instant before entering, for the
widely opened glazed doors afforded a view right through the gallery--a
view of a surging sea of heads, which two currents, as it were, kept in
a continuous eddying movement. But they entered after all. Five or six
groups of men, talking very loudly and gesticulating, were obstinately
discussing the play amid these violent interruptions; others were filing
round, their heels, as they turned, sounding sharply on the waxed floor.
To right and left, between columns of variegated imitation marble, women
were sitting on benches covered with red velvet and viewing the passing
movement of the crowd with an air of fatigue as though the heat had
rendered them languid. In the lofty mirrors behind them one saw the
reflection of their chignons. At the end of the room, in front of the
bar, a man with a huge corporation was drinking a glass of fruit syrup.

But Fauchery, in order to breathe more freely, had gone to the balcony.