"This way, sir."

The friends were shown into a tiny box, hung and carpeted in red,
with four chairs upholstered in the same color. They seated
themselves. To their right and left were similar boxes. On the stage
three men were performing on trapezes. But Duroy paid no heed to
them, his eyes finding more to interest them in the grand promenade.
Forestier remarked upon the motley appearance of the throng, but
Duroy did not listen to him. A woman, leaning her arms upon the edge
of her loge, was staring at him. She was a tall, voluptuous
brunette, her face whitened with enamel, her black eyes penciled,
and her lips painted. With a movement of her head, she summoned a
friend who was passing, a blonde with auburn hair, likewise inclined
to embonpoint, and said to her in a whisper intended to be heard;
"There is a nice fellow!"

Forestier heard it, and said to Duroy with a smile: "You are lucky,
my dear boy. My congratulations!"

The ci-devant soldier blushed and mechanically fingered the two
pieces of gold in his pocket.

The curtain fell--the orchestra played a valse--and Duroy said:

"Shall we walk around the gallery?"

"If you like."

Soon they were carried along in the current of promenaders. Duroy