They seemed to have only parted at the doors of the theater the day before.

Meanwhile the players were waiting about, but Bordenave said that the third act would not be rehearsed.

And so it chanced that old Bosc went grumbling away at the proper time, whereas usually the company were needlessly detained and lost whole afternoons in consequence.

Everyone went off.

Down on the pavement they were blinded by the broad daylight and stood blinking their eyes in a dazed sort of way, as became people who had passed three hours squabbling with tight-strung nerves in the depths of a cellar.