His pale face was convulsed by outraged vanity; his lips were drawn and thin, his eyes flamed; he was quite unable to conceal the struggle that was going on inside him.

To think that he, Prulliere, the idol of the public, should play a part of only two hundred lines! "Why not make me bring in letters on a tray ?" he continued bitterly.
"Come, come, Prulliere, behave decently," said Bordenave, who was anxious to treat him tenderly because of his influence over the boxes.
"Don't begin making a fuss.

We'll find some points.

Eh, Fauchery, you'll add some points?
In the third act it would even be possible to lengthen a scene out." "Well then, I want the last speech of all," the comedian declared.

"I certainly deserve to have it." Fauchery's silence seemed to give consent, and Prulliere, still greatly agitated and discontented despite everything, put his part back into his pocket.