"Why couldn't you fight at home?
You know as well as I do that I don't like this sort of thing.

You, Mignon, you'll do me the pleasure of staying over here on the prompt side, and you, Fauchery, if you leave the O.P.side I'll chuck you out of the theater.

You understand, eh?
Prompt side and O.P.side or I forbid Rose to bring you here at all." When he returned to the prince's presence the latter asked what was the matter.
"Oh, nothing at all," he murmured quietly.
Nana was standing wrapped in furs, talking to these gentlemen while awaiting her cue.

As Count Muffat was coming up in order to peep between two of the wings at the stage, he understood from a sign made him by the stage manager that he was to step softly.

Drowsy warmth was streaming down from the flies, and in the wings, which were lit by vivid patches of light, only a few people remained, talking in low voices or making off on tiptoe.