13. Zola: A Love Episode
CHAPTER I.
The night-lamp with a bluish shade was burning on the
chimney-piece, behind a book, whose shadows plunged more
than half the chamber in darkness. There was a quiet gleam
of light cutting across the round table and the couch,
streaming over the heavy folds of the velvet curtains, and
imparting an azure hue to the mirror of the rosewood
wardrobe placed between the two windows. The quiet
simplicity of the room, the blue tints on the hangings, furniture,
and carpet, served at this hour of night to invest everything
with the delightful vagueness of cloudland. Facing the
windows, and within sweep of the shadow, loomed the velvet-
curtained bed, a black mass, relieved only by the white of the
sheets. With hands crossed on her bosom, and breathing
lightly, lay Helene, asleep—mother and widow alike
personified by the quiet unrestraint of her attitude.
38. "At one performance, six people
passed out when an actress,
whose eyeball was just gouged
out, re-entered the stage,
revealing a gooey, blood-
encrusted hole in her skull.
Backstage, the actors
themselves calculated their
success according to the
evening's faintings. During one
play that ended with a realistic
blood transfusion, a record was
set: fifteen playgoers had lost
consciousness. Between
sketches, the cobble-stoned
alley outside the theatre was
frequented by hyperventilating
couples and vomiting
individuals."