"Indeed!" said Moncharmin, interrupting her. "Did the ghost break poor

Isidore Saack's leg?"

Mme. Giry opened her eyes with astonishment at such ignorance.

However, she consented to enlighten those two poor innocents. The

thing had happened in M. Debienne and M. Poligny's time, also in Box

Five and also during a performance of FAUST. Mme. Giry coughed,

cleared her throat--it sounded as though she were preparing to sing the

whole of Gounod's score--and began: "It was like this, sir. That night, M. Maniera and his lady, the

jewelers in the Rue Mogador, were sitting in the front of the box, with

their great friend, M. Isidore Saack, sitting behind Mme. Maniera.

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Mephistopheles was singing"--Mme. Giry here burst into song

herself--"'Catarina, while you play at sleeping,' and then M. Maniera

heard a voice in his right ear (his wife was on his left) saying, 'Ha,

ha! Julie's not playing at sleeping!' His wife happened to be called

Julie. So. M. Maniera turns to the right to see who was talking to

him like that. Nobody there! He rubs his ear and asks himself, if

he's dreaming. Then Mephistopheles went on with his serenade... But,

perhaps I'm boring you gentlemen?"

"No, no, go on."

"You are too good, gentlemen," with a smirk. "Well, then,

Mephistopheles went on with his serenade"--Mme. Giry, burst into song

again--"'Saint, unclose thy portals holy and accord the bliss, to a

mortal bending lowly, of a pardon-kiss.' And then M. Maniera again

hears the voice in his right ear, saying, this time, 'Ha, ha! Julie

wouldn't mind according a kiss to Isidore!' Then he turns round again,

but, this time, to the left; and what do you think he sees? Isidore,

who had taken his lady's hand and was covering it with kisses through

the little round place in the glove--like this, gentlemen"--rapturously

kissing the bit of palm left bare in the middle of her thread gloves.

"Then they had a lively time between them! Bang! Bang! M. Maniera,

who was big and strong, like you, M. Richard, gave two blows to M.

Isidore Saack, who was small and weak like M. Moncharmin, saving his

presence. There was a great uproar. People in the house shouted,

'That will do! Stop them! He'll kill him!' Then, at last, M. Isidore

Saack managed to run away."

"Then the ghost had not broken his leg?" asked M. Moncharmin, a little

vexed that his figure had made so little impression on Mme. Giry.

"He did break it for him, sir," replied Mme. Giry haughtily. "He broke

it for him on the grand staircase, which he ran down too fast, sir, and

it will be long before the poor gentleman will be able to go up it

again!"




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