To-night his nerves had been on the rack, and he had suffered agonies
of apprehension, for all of which he blamed Scaramouche so bitterly
that not even the ultimate success - almost miraculous when all the
elements are considered - could justify his partner in his eyes.
And now, to find himself, in addition, ignored by this company - his
own company, which he had so laboriously and slowly assembled and
selected among the men of ability whom he had found here and there
in the dregs of cities was something that stirred his bile, and
aroused the malevolence that never did more than slumber in him. But
deeply though his rage was moved, it did not blind him to the folly
of betraying it. Yet that he should assert himself in this hour was
imperative unless he were for ever to become a thing of no account
in this troupe over which he had lorded it for long months before
this interloper came amongst them to fill his purse and destroy his
authority.
So he stepped forward now when Polichinelle had done. His make-up
assisting him to mask his bitter feelings, he professed to add his
own to Polichinelle's acclamations of his dear partner.
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