Had she wanted colleagues, she would certainly have undertaken to ask them herself.

No, no, she wouldn't have third-rate play actors.

Old Bosc was always drunk; Prulliere was fond of spitting too much, and as to Fontan, he made himself unbearable in society with his loud voice and his stupid doings.

Then, you know, third-rate play actors were always out of place when they found themselves in the society of gentlemen such as those around her.
"Yes, yes, it's true," Mignon declared.
All round the table the gentlemen in question looked unimpeachable in the extreme, what with their evening dress and their pale features, the natural distinction of which was still further refined by fatigue.

The old gentleman was as deliberate in his movements and wore as subtle a smile as though he were presiding over a diplomatic congress, and Vandeuvres, with his exquisite politeness toward the ladies next to him, seemed to be at one of the Countess Muffat's receptions.