once and shown the statues on every side to the public
crowded in the darkened theatre, the curtain closed again,
another tableau was arranged, and the performance
recommenced a moment later.

Two of these women were very pretty. One resembled
Mme. Rey, who played the Queen in "Ruy Blas" in 1840;
it was this one who represented Venus. She was
admirably shaped. Another was more than pretty: she
was handsome and superb. Nothing more magnificent
could be seen than her black, sad eyes, her disdainful
mouth, her smile at once bewitching and haughty. She
was called Maria, I believe. In a tableau which
represented "A Slave Market," she displayed the imperial
despair and the stoical dejection of a nude queen offered
for sale to the first bidder. Her tights, which were torn
at the hip, disclosed her firm white flesh. They were,
however only poor girls of London. All had dirty finger nails.

When they returned to the green room they laughed
as freely with the scene shifters as with the authors, and
talked broken French while they adjusted all kinds of
frightful rags upon their charming visages. Their smile
was the calm smile of perfect innocence or of complete
corruption.