"
"And what does this groom do?"
"He has the chief management of the stable."
"What stable?"
"Why, yours, sir, the stable of the Opera."
"Is there a stable at the Opera? Upon my word, I didn't know.
Where is it?"
"In the cellars, on the Rotunda side. It's a very important department;
we have twelve horses."
"Twelve horses! And what for, in Heaven's name?"
"Why, we want trained horses for the processions in the Juive,
The Profeta and so on; horses `used to the boards.' It is the grooms'
business to teach them. M. Lachenel is very clever at it. He used
to manage Franconi's stables."
"Very well...but what does he want?"
"I don't know; I never saw him in such a state."
"He can come in."
M. Lachenel came in, carrying a riding-whip, with which he struck
his right boot in an irritable manner.
"Good morning, M. Lachenel," said Richard, somewhat impressed.
"To what do we owe the honor of your visit?"
"Mr. Manager, I have come to ask you to get rid of the whole stable."
"What, you want to get rid of our horses?"
"I'm not talking of the horses, but of the stablemen."
"How many stablemen have you, M.
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