The gasman was at his post amid an intricate arrangement of cocks; a fireman, leaning against the side lights, was craning forward, trying to catch a glimpse of things, while on his seat, high up, the curtain man was watching with resigned expression, careless of the play, constantly on the alert for the bell to ring him to his duty among the ropes.

And amid the close air and the shuffling of feet and the sound of whispering, the voices of the actors on the stage sounded strange, deadened, surprisingly discordant.

Farther off again, above the confused noises of the band, a vast breathing sound was audible.

It was the breath of the house, which sometimes swelled up till it burst in vague rumors, in laughter, in applause.

Though invisible, the presence of the public could be felt, even in the silences.
"There's something open," said Nana sharply, and with that she tightened the folds of her fur cloak.