She never ceased to laugh and chatter, to hop about and play practical jokes, until Mm.

Debienne and Poligny appeared on the steps of the foyer, when she was severely called to order by the impatient Sorelli.
Everybody remarked that the retiring managers looked cheerful, as is the Paris way.

None will ever be a true Parisian who has not learned to wear a mask of gaiety over his sorrows and one of sadness, boredom or indifference over his inward joy.

You know that one of your friends is in trouble; do not try to console him: he will tell you that he is already comforted; but, should he have met with good fortune, be careful how you congratulate him: he thinks it so natural that he is surprised that you should speak of it.

In Paris, our lives are one masked ball; and the foyer of the ballet is the last place in which two men so "knowing" as M.Debienne and M.Poligny would have made the mistake of betraying their grief, however genuine it might be.