Bosc and Fontan sat on the floor with their knees drawn up to their chins, and Prulliere stretched himself and yawned before going on.

Everybody was worn out; their eyes were red, and they were longing to go home to sleep.
Just then Fauchery, who had been prowling about on the O.P.side ever since Bordenave had forbidden him the other, came and buttonholed the count in order to keep himself in countenance and offered at the same time to show him the dressing rooms.

An increasing sense of languor had left Muffat without any power of resistance, and after looking round for the Marquis de Chouard, who had disappeared, he ended by following the journalist.

He experienced a mingled feeling of relief and anxiety as he left the wings whence he had been listening to Nana's songs.
Fauchery had already preceded him up the staircase, which was closed on the first and second floors by low-paneled doors.

It was one of those stairways which you find in miserable tenements.