Милый друг
Poverty
"Box17?"
"Thisway,sir."
Thefriendswereshownintoatinybox,hungandcarpetedinred,withfourchairsupholsteredinthesamecolor.Theyseatedthemselves.Totheirrightandleftweresimilarboxes.Onthestagethreemenwereperformingontrapezes.ButDuroypaidnoheedtothem,hiseyesfindingmoretointeresttheminthegrandpromenade.Forestierremarkeduponthemotleyappearanceofthethrong,butDuroydidnotlistentohim.Awoman,leaningherarmsupontheedgeofherloge,wasstaringathim.Shewasatall,voluptuousbrunette,herfacewhitenedwithenamel,herblackeyespenciled,andherlipspainted.Withamovementofherhead,shesummonedafriendwhowaspassing,ablondewithauburnhair,likewiseinclinedtoembonpoint,andsaidtoherinawhisperintendedtobeheard;"Thereisanicefellow!"
Forestierheardit,andsaidtoDuroywithasmile:"Youarelucky,mydearboy.Mycongratulations!"
Theci-devantsoldierblushedandmechanicallyfingeredthetwopiecesofgoldinhispocket.
Thecurtainfell—theorchestraplayedavalse—andDuroysaid:
"Shallwewalkaroundthegallery?"
"Ifyoulike."
Soontheywerecarriedalonginthecurrentofpromenaders.Duroydrankinwithdelighttheair,vitiatedasitwasbytobaccoandcheapperfume,butForestierperspired,panted,andcoughed.
"Letusgointothegarden,"hesaid.