She wanted him to stay in the stage box for the last act, but he made
his escape, promising to catch them at the door afterward. Downstairs
in front of the theater Fauchery and La Faloise lit cigarettes. A great
gathering blocked the sidewalk, a stream of men who had come down
from the theater steps and were inhaling the fresh night air in the
boulevards, where the roar and battle had diminished.

Meanwhile Mignon had drawn Steiner away to the Cafe des Varietes. Seeing
Nana's success, he had set to work to talk enthusiastically about her,
all the while observing the banker out of the corners of his eyes. He
knew him well; twice he had helped him to deceive Rose and then, the
caprice being over, had brought him back to her, faithful and repentant.
In the cafe the too numerous crowd of customers were squeezing
themselves round the marble-topped tables. Several were standing up,
drinking in a great hurry. The tall mirrors reflected this thronging
world of heads to infinity and magnified the narrow room beyond measure
with its three chandeliers, its moleskin-covered seats and its winding
staircase draped with red. Steiner went and seated himself at a table in
the first saloon, which opened full on the boulevard, its doors having
been removed rather early for the time of year. As Fauchery and La
Faloise were passing the banker stopped them.

"Come and take a bock with us, eh?" they said.

But he was too preoccupied by an idea; he wanted to have a bouquet
thrown to Nana. At last he called a waiter belonging to the cafe, whom
he familiarly addressed as Auguste. Mignon, who was listening, looked at
him so sharply that he lost countenance and stammered out: