Chapter IV

by Emile Zola

　　Since morning Zoe had delivered up the flat to a managing man whohad come from Brebant's with a staff of helpers and waiters.Brebant was to supply everything, from the supper, the plates anddishes, the glass, the linen, the flowers, down to the seats andfootstools. Nana could not have mustered a dozen napkins out of allher cupboards, and not having had time to get a proper outfit afterher new start in life and scorning to go to the restaurant, she haddecided to make the restaurant come to her. It struck her as beingmore the thing. She wanted to celebrate her great success as anactress with a supper which should set people talking. As herdining room was too small, the manager had arranged the table in thedrawing room, a table with twenty-five covers, placed somewhat closetogether."Is everything ready?" asked Nana when she returned at midnight."Oh! I don't know," replied Zoe roughly, looking beside herself withworry. "The Lord be thanked, I don't bother about anything.They're making a fearful mess in the kitchen and all over the flat!I've had to fight my battles too. The other two came again. Myeye! I did just chuck 'em out!"She referred, of course, to her employer's old admirers, thetradesman and the Walachian, to whom Nana, sure of her future andlonging to shed her skin, as she phrased it, had decided to give thego-by."There are a couple of leeches for you!" she muttered."If they come back threaten to go to the police."Then she called Daguenet and Georges, who had remained behind in theanteroom, where they were hanging up their overcoats. They had bothmet at the stage door in the Passage des Panoramas, and she hadbrought them home with her in a cab. As there was nobody there yet,she shouted to them to come into the dressing room while Zoe wastouching up her toilet. Hurriedly and without changing her dressshe had her hair done up and stuck white roses in her chignon and ather bosom. The little room was littered with the drawing-roomfurniture, which the workmen had been compelled to roll in there,and it was full of a motley assemblage of round tables, sofas andarmchairs, with their legs in air for the most part. Nana was quiteready when her dress caught on a castor and tore upward. At thisshe swore furiously; such things only happened to her! Ragingly shetook off her dress, a very simple affair of white foulard, of sothin and supple a texture that it clung about her like a long shift.But she put it on again directly, for she could not find another toher taste, and with tears in her eyes declared that she was dressedlike a ragpicker. Daguenet and Georges had to patch up the rentwith pins, while Zoe once more arranged her hair. All three hurriedround her, especially the boy, who knelt on the floor with his handsamong her skirts. And at last she calmed down again when Daguenetassured her it could not be later than a quarter past twelve, seeingthat by dint of scamping her words and skipping her lines she hadeffectually shortened the third act of the Blonde Venus."The play's still far too good for that crowd of idiots," she said."Did you see? There were thousands there tonight. Zoe, my girl,you will wait in here. Don't go to bed, I shall want you. By gum,it is time they came. Here's company!"She ran off while Georges stayed where he was with the skirts of hiscoat brushing the floor. He blushed, seeing Daguenet looking athim. Notwithstanding which, they had conceived a tender regard theone for the other. They rearranged the bows of their cravats infront of the big dressing glass and gave each other a mutual dose ofthe clothesbrush, for they were all white from their close contactwith Nana."One would think it was sugar," murmured Georges, giggling like agreedy little child.A footman hired for the evening was ushering the guests into thesmall drawing room, a narrow slip of a place in which only fourarmchairs had been left in order the better to pack in the company.From the large drawing room beyond came a sound as of the moving ofplates and silver, while a clear and brilliant ray of light shonefrom under the door. At her entrance Nana found Clarisse Besnus,whom La Faloise had brought, already installed in one of thearmchairs."Dear me, you're the first of 'em!" said Nana, who, now that she wassuccessful, treated her familiarly."Oh, it's his doing," replied Clarisse. "He's always afraid of notgetting anywhere in time. If I'd taken him at his word I shouldn'thave waited to take off my paint and my wig."The young man, who now saw Nana for the first time, bowed, paid hera compliment and spoke of his cousin, hiding his agitation behind anexaggeration of politeness. But Nana, neither listening to him norrecognizing his face, shook hands with him and then went brisklytoward Rose Mignon, with whom she at once assumed a mostdistinguished manner."Ah, how nice of you, my dear madame! I was so anxious to have youhere!""It's I who am charmed, I assure you," said Rose with equalamiability."Pray, sit down. Do you require anything?""Thank you, no! Ah yes, I've left my fan in my pelisse, Steiner;just look in the right-hand pocket."Steiner and Mignon had come in behind Rose. The banker turned backand reappeared with the fan while Mignon embraced Nana fraternallyand forced Rose to do so also. Did they not all belong to the samefamily in the theatrical world? Then he winked as though toencourage Steiner, but the latter was disconcerted by Rose's cleargaze and contented himself by kissing Nana's hand.Just then the Count de Vandeuvres made his appearance with Blanchede Sivry. There was an interchange of profound bows, and Nana withthe utmost ceremony conducted Blanche to an armchair. MeanwhileVandeuvres told them laughingly that Fauchery was engaged in adispute at the foot of the stairs because the porter had refused toallow Lucy Stewart's carriage to come in at the gate. They couldhear Lucy telling the porter he was a dirty blackguard in theanteroom. But when the footman had opened the door she came forwardwith her laughing grace of manner, announced her name herself, tookboth Nana's hands in hers and told her that she had liked her fromthe very first and considered her talent splendid. Nana, puffed upby her novel role of hostess, thanked her and was veritablyconfused. Nevertheless, from the moment of Fauchery's arrival sheappeared preoccupied, and directly she could get near him she askedhim in a low voice:"Will he come?""No, he did not want to," was the journalist's abrupt reply, for hewas taken by surprise, though he had got ready some sort of tale toexplain Count Muffat's refusal.Seeing the young woman's sudden pallor, he became conscious of hisfolly and tried to retract his words."He was unable to; he is taking the countess to the ball at theMinistry of the Interior tonight.""All right," murmured Nana, who suspected him of ill will, "you'llpay me out for that, my pippin."She turned on her heel, and so did he; they were angry. Just thenMignon was pushing Steiner up against Nana, and when Fauchery hadleft her he said to her in a low voice and with the good-naturedcynicism of a comrade in arms who wishes his friends to be happy:"He's dying of it, you know, only he's afraid of my wife. Won't youprotect him?"Nana did not appear to understand. She smiled and looked at Rose,the husband and the banker and finally said to the latter:"Monsieur Steiner, you will sit next to me."With that there came from the anteroom a sound of laughter andwhispering and a burst of merry, chattering voices, which sounded asif a runaway convent were on the premises. And Labordette appeared,towing five women in his rear, his boarding school, as Lucy Stewartcruelly phrased it. There was Gaga, majestic in a blue velvet dresswhich was too tight for her, and Caroline Hequet, clad as usual inribbed black silk, trimmed with Chantilly lace. Lea de Horn camenext, terribly dressed up, as her wont was, and after her the bigTatan Nene, a good-humored fair girl with the bosom of a wet nurse,at which people laughed, and finally little Maria Blond, a youngdamsel of fifteen, as thin and vicious as a street child, yet on thehigh road to success, owing to her recent first appearance at theFolies. Labordette had brought the whole collection in a singlefly, and they were stlll laughing at the way they had been squeezedwith Maria Blond on her knees. But on entering the room they pursedup their lips, and all grew very conventional as they shook handsand exchanged salutations. Gaga even affected the infantile andlisped through excess of genteel deportment. Tatan Nene alonetransgressed. They had been telling her as they came along that sixabsolutely naked Negroes would serve up Nana's supper, and she nowgrew anxious about them and asked to see them. Labordette calledher a goose and besought her to be silent."And Bordenave?" asked Fauchery."Oh, you may imagine how miserable I am," cried Nana; "he won't beable to join us.""Yes," said Rose Mignon, "his foot caught in a trap door, and he'sgot a fearful sprain. If only you could hear him swearing, with hisleg tied up and laid out on a chair!"Thereupon everybody mourned over Bordenave's absence. No one evergave a good supper without Bordenave. Ah well, they would try anddo without him, and they were already talking about other matterswhen a burly voice was heard:"What, eh, what? Is that the way they're going to write my obituarynotice?"There was a shout, and all heads were turned round, for it wasindeed Bordenave. Huge and fiery-faced, he was standing with hisstiff leg in the doorway, leaning for support on Simonne Cabiroche'sshoulder. Simonne was for the time being his mistress. This littlecreature had had a certain amount of education and could play thepiano and talk English. She was a blonde on a tiny, pretty scaleand so delicately formed that she seemed to bend under Bordenave'srude weight. Yet she was smilingly submissive withal. He posturedthere for some moments, for he felt that together they formed atableau."One can't help liking ye, eh?" he continued. "Zounds, I was afraidI should get bored, and I said to myself, 'Here goes.'"But he interrupted himself with an oath."Oh, damn!"Simonne had taken a step too quickly forward, and his foot had justfelt his full weight. He gave her a rough push, but she, stillsmiling away and ducking her pretty head as some animal might thatis afraid of a beating, held him up with all the strength a littleplump blonde can command. Amid all these exclamations there was arush to his assistance. Nana and Rose Mignon rolled up an armchair,into which Bordenave let himself sink, while the other women slid asecond one under his leg. And with that all the actresses presentkissed him as a matter of course. He kept grumbling and gasping."Oh, damn! Oh, damn! Ah well, the stomach's unhurt, you'll see."Other guests had arrived by this time, and motion became impossiblein the room. The noise of clinking plates and silver had ceased,and now a dispute was heard going on in the big drawing room, wherethe voice of the manager grumbled angrily. Nana was growingimpatient, for she expected no more invited guests and wondered whythey did not bring in supper. She had just sent Georges to find outwhat was going on when, to her great surprise, she noticed thearrival of more guests, both male and female. She did not know themin the least. Whereupon with some embarrassment she questionedBordenave, Mignon and Labordette about them. They did not know themany more than she did, but when she turned to the Count deVandeuvres he seemed suddenly to recollect himself. They were theyoung men he had pressed into her service at Count Muffat's. Nanathanked him. That was capital, capital! Only they would all beterribly crowded, and she begged Labordette to go and have sevenmore covers set. Scarcely had he left the room than the footmanushered in three newcomers. Nay, this time the thing was becomingridiculous; one certainly could never take them all in. Nana wasbeginning to grow angry and in her haughtiest manner announced thatsuch conduct was scarcely in good taste. But seeing two morearrive, she began laughing; it was really too funny. So much theworse. People would have to fit in anyhow! The company were all ontheir feet save Gaga and Rose and Bordenave, who alone took up twoarmchairs. There was a buzz of voices, people talking in low tonesand stifling slight yawns the while."Now what d'you say, my lass," asked Bordenave, "to our sitting downat table as if nothing had happened? We are all here, don't youthink?""Oh yes, we're all here, I promise you!" she answered laughingly.She looked round her but grew suddenly serious, as though she weresurprised at not finding someone. Doubtless there was a guestmissing whom she did not mention. It was a case of waiting. But aminute or two later the company noticed in their midst a tallgentleman with a fine face and a beautiful white beard. The mostastonishing thing about it was that nobody had seen him come in;indeed, he must have slipped into the little drawing room throughthe bedroom door, which had remained ajar. Silence reigned, brokenonly by a sound of whispering. The Count de Vandeuvres certainlyknew who the gentleman was, for they both exchanged a discreethandgrip, but to the questions which the women asked him he repliedby a smile only. Thereupon Caroline Hequet wagered in a low voicethat it was an English lord who was on the eve of returning toLondon to be married. She knew him quite well--she had had him.And this account of the matter went the round of the ladies present,Maria Blond alone asserting that, for her part, she recognized aGerman ambassador. She could prove it, because he often passed thenight with one of her friends. Among the men his measure was takenin a few rapid phrases. A real swell, to judge by his looks!Perhaps he would pay for the supper! Most likely. It looked likeit. Bah! Provided only the supper was a good one! In the end thecompany remained undecided. Nay, they were already beginning toforget the old white-bearded gentleman when the manager opened thedoor of the large drawing room."Supper is on the table, madame."Nana had already accepted Steiner's proffered arm without noticing amovement on the part of the old gentleman, who started to walkbehind her in solitary state. Thus the march past could not beorganized, and men and women entered anyhow, joking with homely goodhumor over this absence of ceremony. A long table stretched fromone end to the other of the great room, which had been entirelycleared of furniture, and this same table was not long enough, forthe plates thereon were touching one another. Four candelabra, withten candles apiece, lit up the supper, and of these one was gorgeousin silver plate with sheaves of flowers to right and left of it.Everything was luxurious after the restaurant fashion; the china wasornamented with a gold line and lacked the customary monogram; thesilver had become worn and tarnished through dint of continualwashings; the glass was of the kind that you can complete an odd setof in any cheap emporium.The scene suggested a premature housewarming in an establishmentnewly smiled on by fortune and as yet lacking the necessaryconveniences. There was no central luster, and the candelabra,whose tall tapers had scarcely burned up properly, cast a paleyellow light among the dishes and stands on which fruit, cakes andpreserves alternated symmetrically."You sit where you like, you know," said Nana. "It's more amusingthat way."She remained standing midway down the side of the table. The oldgentleman whom nobody knew had placed himself on her right, whileshe kept Steiner on her left hand. Some guests were already sittingdown when the sound of oaths came from the little drawing room. Itwas Bordenave. The company had forgotten him, and he was having allthe trouble in the world to raise himself out of his two armchairs,for he was howling amain and calling for that cat of a Simonne, whohad slipped off with the rest. The women ran in to him, full ofpity for his woes, and Bordenave appeared, supported, nay, almostcarried, by Caroline, Clarisse, Tatan Nene and Maria Blond. Andthere was much to-do over his installation at the table."In the middle, facing Nana!" was the cry. "Bordenave in themiddle! He'll be our president!"Thereupon the ladies seated him in the middle. But he needed asecond chair for his leg, and two girls lifted it up and stretchedit carefully out. It wouldn't matter; he would eat sideways."God blast it all!" he grumbled. "We're squashed all the same! Ah,my kittens, Papa recommends himself to your tender care!"He had Rose Mignon on his right and Lucy Stewart on his left hand,and they promised to take good care of him. Everybody was nowgetting settled. Count de Vandeuvres placed himself between Lucyand Clarisse; Fauchery between Rose Mignon and Caroline Hequet. Onthe other side of the table Hector de la Faloise had rushed to getnext Gaga, and that despite the calls of Clarisse opposite, whileMignon, who never deserted Steiner, was only separated from him byBlanche and had Tatan Nene on his left. Then came Labordette and,finally, at the two ends of the table were irregular crowding groupsof young men and of women, such as Simonne, Lea de Horn and MariaBlond. It was in this region that Daguenet and Georges forgatheredmore warmly than ever while smilingly gazing at Nana.Nevertheless, two people remained standing, and there was muchjoking about it. The men offered seats on their knees. Clarisse,who could not move her elbows, told Vandeuvres that she counted onhim to feed her. And then that Bordenave did just take up spacewith his chairs! There was a final effort, and at last everybodywas seated, but, as Mignon loudly remarked, they were confoundedlylike herrings in a barrel."Thick asparagus soup a la comtesse, clear soup a la Deslignac,"murmured the waiters, carrying about platefuls in rear of theguests.Bordenave was loudly recommending the thick soup when a shout arose,followed by protests and indignant exclamations. The door had justopened, and three late arrivals, a woman and two men, had just comein. Oh dear, no! There was no space for them! Nana, however,without leaving her chair, began screwing up her eyes in the effortto find out whether she knew them. The woman was Louise Violaine,but she had never seen the men before."This gentleman, my dear," said Vandeuvres, "is a friend of mine, anaval officer, Monsieur de Foucarmont by name. I invited him."Foucarmont bowed and seemed very much at ease, for he added:"And I took leave to bring one of my friends with me.""Oh, it's quite right, quite right!" said Nana. "Sit down, pray.Let's see, you--Clarisse--push up a little. You're a good dealspread out down there. That's it--where there's a will--"They crowded more tightly than ever, and Foucarmont and Louise weregiven a little stretch of table, but the friend had to sit at somedistance from his plate and ate his supper through dint of making along arm between his neighbors' shoulders. The waiters took awaythe soup plates and circulated rissoles of young rabbit withtruffles and "niokys" and powdered cheese. Bordenave agitated thewhole table with the announcement that at one moment he had had theidea of bringing with him Prulliere, Fontan and old Bosc. At thisNana looked sedate and remarked dryly that she would have given thema pretty reception. Had she wanted colleagues, she would certainlyhave undertaken to ask them herself. No, no, she wouldn't havethird-rate play actors. Old Bosc was always drunk; Prulliere wasfond of spitting too much, and as to Fontan, he made himselfunbearable in society with his loud voice and his stupid doings.Then, you know, third-rate play actors were always out of place whenthey found themselves in the society of gentlemen such as thosearound her."Yes, yes, it's true," Mignon declared.All round the table the gentlemen in question looked unimpeachablein the extreme, what with their evening dress and their palefeatures, the natural distinction of which was still further refinedby fatigue. The old gentleman was as deliberate in his movementsand wore as subtle a smile as though he were presiding over adiplomatic congress, and Vandeuvres, with his exquisite politenesstoward the ladies next to him, seemed to be at one of the CountessMuffat's receptions. That very morning Nana had been remarking toher aunt that in the matter of men one could not have done better--they were all either wellborn or wealthy, in fact, quite the thing.And as to the ladies, they were behaving admirably. Some of them,such as Blanche, Lea and Louise, had come in low dresses, but Gaga'sonly was perhaps a little too low, the more so because at her ageshe would have done well not to show her neck at all. Now that thecompany were finally settled the laughter and the light jests beganto fail. Georges was under the impression that he had assisted atmerrier dinner parties among the good folks of Orleans. There wasscarcely any conversation. The men, not being mutually acquainted,stared at one another, while the women sat quite quiet, and it wasthis which especially surprised Georges. He thought them all smugs--he had been under the impression that everybody would begin kissingat once.The third course, consisting of a Rhine carp a la Chambord and asaddle of venison a l'anglaise, was being served when Blancheremarked aloud:"Lucy, my dear, I met your Ollivier on Sunday. How he's grown!""Dear me, yes! He's eighteen," replied Lucy. "It doesn't make mefeel any younger. He went back to his school yesterday."Her son Ollivier, whom she was wont to speak of with pride, was apupil at the Ecole de Marine. Then ensued a conversation about theyoung people, during which all the ladies waxed very tender. Nanadescribed her own great happiness. Her baby, the little Louis, shesaid, was now at the house of her aunt, who brought him round to herevery morning at eleven o'clock, when she would take him into herbed, where he played with her griffon dog Lulu. It was enough tomake one die of laughing to see them both burying themselves underthe clothes at the bottom of the bed. The company had no idea howcunning Louiset had already become."Oh, yesterday I did just pass a day!" said Rose Mignon in her turn."Just imagine, I went to fetch Charles and Henry at their boardingschool, and I had positively to take them to the theater at night.They jumped; they clapped their little hands: 'We shall see Mammaact! We shall see Mamma act!' Oh, it was a to-do!"Mignon smiled complaisantly, his eyes moist with paternaltenderness."And at the play itself," he continued, "they were so funny! Theybehaved as seriously as grown men, devoured Rose with their eyes andasked me why Mamma had her legs bare like that."The whole table began laughing, and Mignon looked radiant, for hispride as a father was flattered. He adored his children and had butone object in life, which was to increase their fortunes byadministering the money gained by Rose at the theater and elsewherewith the businesslike severity of a faithful steward. When as firstfiddle in the music hall where she used to sing he had married her,they had been passionately fond of one another. Now they were goodfriends. There was an understanding between them: she labored hardto the full extent of her talent and of her beauty; he had given uphis violin in order the better to watch over her successes as anactress and as a woman. One could not have found a more homely andunited household anywhere!"What age is your eldest?" asked Vandeuvres."Henry's nine," replied Mignon, "but such a big chap for his years!"Then he chaffed Steiner, who was not fond of children, and withquiet audacity informed him that were he a father, he would make aless stupid hash of his fortune. While talking he watched thebanker over Blanche's shoulders to see if it was coming off withNana. But for some minutes Rose and Fauchery, who were talking verynear him, had been getting on his nerves. Was Rose going to wastetime over such a folly as that? In that sort of case, by Jove, heblocked the way. And diamond on finger and with his fine hands ingreat evidence, he finished discussing a fillet of venison.Elsewhere the conversation about children continued. La Faloise,rendered very restless by the immediate proximity of Gaga, askednews of her daughter, whom he had had the pleasure of noticing inher company at the Varietes. Lili was quite well, but she was stillsuch a tomboy! He was astonished to learn that Lili was entering onher nineteenth year. Gaga became even more imposing in his eyes,and when he endeavored to find out why she had not brought Lili withher:"Oh no, no, never!" she said stiffly. "Not three months ago shepositively insisted on leaving her boarding school. I was thinkingof marrying her off at once, but she loves me so that I had to takeher home--oh, so much against my will!"Her blue eyelids with their blackened lashes blinked and waveredwhile she spoke of the business of settling her young lady. If ather time of life she hadn't laid by a sou but was still alwaysworking to minister to men's pleasures, especially those very youngmen, whose grandmother she might well be, it was truly because sheconsidered a good match of far greater importance than mere savings.And with that she leaned over La Faloise, who reddened under thehuge, naked, plastered shoulder with which she well-nigh crushedhim."You know," she murmured, "if she fails it won't be my fault. Butthey're so strange when they're young!"There was a considerable bustle round the table, and the waitersbecame very active. After the third course the entrees had madetheir appearance; they consisted of pullets a la marechale, filletsof sole with shallot sauce and escalopes of Strasbourg pate. Themanager, who till then had been having Meursault served, now offeredChambertin and Leoville. Amid the slight hubbub which the change ofplates involved Georges, who was growing momentarily moreastonished, asked Daguenet if all the ladies present were similarlyprovided with children, and the other, who was amused by thisquestion, gave him some further details. Lucy Stewart was thedaughter of a man of English origin who greased the wheels of thetrains at the Gare du Nord; she was thirty-nine years old and hadthe face of a horse but was adorable withal and, though consumptive,never died. In fact, she was the smartest woman there andrepresented three princes and a duke. Caroline Hequet, born atBordeaux, daughter of a little clerk long since dead of shame, waslucky enough to be possessed of a mother with a head on hershoulders, who, after having cursed her, had made it up again at theend of a year of reflection, being minded, at any rate, to save afortune for her daughter. The latter was twenty-five years old andvery passionless and was held to be one of the finest women it ispossible to enjoy. Her price never varied. The mother, a model oforderliness, kept the accounts and noted down receipts andexpenditures with severe precision. She managed the whole householdfrom some small lodging two stories above her daughter's, where,moreover, she had established a workroom for dressmaking and plainsewing. As to Blanche de Sivry, whose real name was JacquelineBandu, she hailed from a village near Amiens. Magnificent inperson, stupid and untruthful in character, she gave herself out asthe granddaughter of a general and never owned to her thirty-twosummers. The Russians had a great taste for her, owing to herembonpoint. Then Daguenet added a rapid word or two about the rest.There was Clarisse Besnus, whom a lady had brought up from Saint-Aubin-sur-Mer in the capacity of maid while the lady's husband hadstarted her in quite another line. There was Simonne Cabiroche, thedaughter of a furniture dealer in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, whohad been educated in a large boarding school with a view to becominga governess. Finally there were Maria Blond and Louise Violaine andLea de Horn, who had all shot up to woman's estate on the pavementsof Paris, not to mention Tatan Nene, who had herded cows inChampagne till she was twenty.Georges listened and looked at these ladies, feeling dizzy andexcited by the coarse recital thus crudely whispered in his ear,while behind his chair the waiters kept repeating in respectfultones:"Pullets a la marechale; fillets of sole with ravigote sauce.""My dear fellow," said Daguenet, giving him the benefit of hisexperience, "don't take any fish; it'll do you no good at this timeof night. And be content with Leoville: it's less treacherous."A heavy warmth floated upward from the candelabras, from the disheswhich were being handed round, from the whole table where thirty-eight human beings were suffocating. And the waiters forgotthemselves and ran when crossing the carpet, so that it was spottedwith grease. Nevertheless, the supper grew scarce any merrier. Theladies trifled with their meat, left half of it uneaten. Tatan Nenealone partook gluttonously of every dish. At that advanced hour ofthe night hunger was of the nervous order only, a mere whimsicalcraving born of an exasperated stomach.At Nana's side the old gentleman refused every dish offered him; hehad only taken a spoonful of soup, and he now sat in front of hisempty plate, gazing silently about. There was some subdued yawning,and occasionally eyelids closed and faces became haggard and white.It was unutterably slow, as it always was, according to Vandeuvres'sdictum. This sort of supper should be served anyhow if it was to befunny, he opined. Otherwise when elegantly and conventionally doneyou might as well feed in good society, where you were not morebored than here. Had it not been for Bordenave, who was stillbawling away, everybody would have fallen asleep. That rum oldbuffer Bordenave, with his leg duly stretched on its chair, wasletting his neighbors, Lucy and Rose, wait on him as though he werea sultan. They were entirely taken up with him, and they helped himand pampered him and watched over his glass and his plate, and yetthat did not prevent his complaining."Who's going to cut up my meat for me? I can't; the table's aleague away."Every few seconds Simonne rose and took up a position behind hisback in order to cut his meat and his bread. All the women took agreat interest in the things he ate. The waiters were recalled, andhe was stuffed to suffocation. Simonne having wiped his mouth forhim while Rose and Lucy were changing his plate, her act struck himas very pretty and, deigning at length to show contentment:"There, there, my daughter," he said, "that's as it should be.Women are made for that!"There was a slight reawakening, and conversation became general asthey finished discussing some orange sherbet. The hot roast was afillet with truffles, and the cold roast a galantine of guinea fowlin jelly. Nana, annoyed by the want of go displayed by her guests,had begun talking with the greatest distinctness."You know the Prince of Scots has already had a stage box reservedso as to see the Blonde Venus when he comes to visit theexhibition.""I very much hope that all the princes will come and see it,"declared Bordenave with his mouth full."They are expecting the shah of Persia next Sunday," said LucyStewart. Whereupon Rose Mignon spoke of the shah's diamonds. Hewore a tunic entirely covered with gems; it was a marvel, a flamingstar; it represented millions. And the ladies, with pale faces andeyes glittering with covetousness, craned forward and ran over thenames of the other kings, the other emperors, who were shortlyexpected. All of them were dreaming of some royal caprice, somenight to be paid for by a fortune."Now tell me, dear boy," Caroline Hequet asked Vandeuvres, leaningforward as she did so, "how old's the emperor of Russia?""Oh, he's 'present time,'" replied the count, laughing. "Nothing tobe done in that quarter, I warn you."Nana made pretense of being hurt. The witticism appeared somewhattoo stinging, and there was a murmur of protest. But Blanche gave adescription of the king of Italy, whom she had once seen at Milan.He was scarcely good looking, and yet that did not prevent himenjoying all the women. She was put out somewhat when Faucheryassured her that Victor Emmanuel could not come to the exhibition.Louise Violaine and Lea favored the emperor of Austria, and all of asudden little Maria Blond was heard saying:"What an old stick the king of Prussia is! I was at Baden lastyear, and one was always meeting him about with Count Bismarck.""Dear me, Bismarck!" Simonne interrupted. "I knew him once, I did.A charming man.""That's what I was saying yesterday," cried Vandeuvres, "but nobodywould believe me."And just as at Countess Sabine's, there ensued a long discussionabout Bismarck. Vandeuvres repeated the same phrases, and for amoment or two one was again in the Muffats' drawing room, the onlydifference being that the ladies were changed. Then, just as lastnight, they passed on to a discussion on music, after which,Foucarmont having let slip some mention of the assumption of theveil of which Paris was still talking, Nana grew quite interestedand insisted on details about Mlle de Fougeray. Oh, the poor child,fancy her burying herself alive like that! Ah well, when it was aquestion of vocation! All round the table the women expressedthemselves much touched, and Georges, wearied at hearing thesethings a second time discussed, was beginning to ask Daguenet aboutNana's ways in private life, when the conversation veered fatefullyback to Count Bismarck. Tatan Nene bent toward Labordette to askhim privily who this Bismarck might be, for she did not know him.Whereupon Labordette, in cold blood, told her some portentousanecdotes. This Bismarck, he said, was in the habit of eating rawmeat and when he met a woman near his den would carry her offthither on his back; at forty years of age he had already had asmany as thirty-two children that way."Thirty-two children at forty!" cried Tatan Nene, stupefied and yetconvinced. "He must be jolly well worn out for his age."There was a burst of merriment, and it dawned on her that she wasbeing made game of."You sillies! How am I to know if you're joking?"Gaga, meanwhile, had stopped at the exhibition. Like all theseladies, she was delightedly preparing for the fray. A good season,provincials and foreigners rushing into Paris! In the long run,perhaps, after the close of the exhibition she would, if herbusiness had flourished, be able to retire to a little house atJouvisy, which she had long had her eye on."What's to be done?" she said to La Faloise. "One never gets whatone wants! Oh, if only one were still really loved!"Gaga behaved meltingly because she had felt the young man's kneegently placed against her own. He was blushing hotly and lisping aselegantly as ever. She weighed him at a glance. Not a very heavylittle gentleman, to be sure, but then she wasn't hard to please.La Faloise obtained her address."Just look there," murmured Vandeuvres to Clarisse. "I think Gaga'sdoing you out of your Hector.""A good riddance, so far as I'm concerned," replied the actress."That fellow's an idiot. I've already chucked him downstairs threetimes. You know, I'm disgusted when dirty little boys run after oldwomen."She broke off and with a little gesture indicated Blanche, who fromthe commencement of dinner had remained in a most uncomfortableattitude, sitting up very markedly, with the intention of displayingher shoulders to the old distinguished-looking gentleman three seatsbeyond her."You're being left too," she resumed.Vandeuvres smiled his thin smile and made a little movement tosignify he did not care. Assuredly 'twas not he who would ever haveprevented poor, dear Blanche scoring a success. He was moreinterested by the spectacle which Steiner was presenting to thetable at large. The banker was noted for his sudden flames. Thatterrible German Jew who brewed money, whose hands forged millions,was wont to turn imbecile whenever he became enamored of a woman.He wanted them all too! Not one could make her appearance on thestage but he bought her, however expensive she might be. Vast sumswere quoted. Twice had his furious appetite for courtesans ruinedhim. The courtesans, as Vandeuvres used to say, avenged publicmorality by emptying his moneybags. A big operation in thesaltworks of the Landes had rendered him powerful on 'change, and sofor six weeks past the Mignons had been getting a pretty slice outof those same saltworks. But people were beginning to lay wagersthat the Mignons would not finish their slice, for Nana was showingher white teeth. Once again Steiner was in the toils, and so deeplythis time that as he sat by Nana's side he seemed stunned; he atewithout appetite; his lip hung down; his face was mottled. She hadonly to name a figure. Nevertheless, she did not hurry butcontinued playing with him, breathing her merry laughter into hishairy ear and enjoying the little convulsive movements which kepttraversing his heavy face. There would always be time enough topatch all that up if that ninny of a Count Muffat were really totreat her as Joseph did Potiphar's wife."Leoville or Chambertin?" murmured a waiter, who came craningforward between Nana and Steiner just as the latter was addressingher in a low voice."Eh, what?" he stammered, losing his head. "Whatever you like--Idon't care."Vandeuvres gently nudged Lucy Stewart, who had a very spitefultongue and a very fierce invention when once she was set going.That evening Mignon was driving her to exasperation."He would gladly be bottleholder, you know," she remarked to thecount. "He's in hopes of repeating what he did with littleJonquier. You remember: Jonquier was Rose's man, but he was sweeton big Laure. Now Mignon procured Laure for Jonquier and then cameback arm in arm with him to Rose, as if he were a husband who hadbeen allowed a little peccadillo. But this time the thing's goingto fail. Nana doesn't give up the men who are lent her.""What ails Mignon that he should be looking at his wife in thatsevere way?" asked Vandeuvres.He leaned forward and saw Rose growing exceedingly amorous towardFauchery. This was the explanation of his neighbor's wrath. Heresumed laughingly:"The devil, are you jealous?""Jealous!" said Lucy in a fury. "Good gracious, if Rose is wantingLeon I give him up willingly--for what he's worth! That's to say,for a bouquet a week and the rest to match! Look here, my dear boy,these theatrical trollops are all made the same way. Why, Rosecried with rage when she read Leon's article on Nana; I know shedid. So now, you understand, she must have an article, too, andshe's gaining it. As for me, I'm going to chuck Leon downstairs--you'll see!"She paused to say "Leoville" to the waiter standing behind her withhis two bottles and then resumed in lowered tones:"I don't want to shout; it isn't my style. But she's a cocky slutall the same. If I were in her husband's place I should lead her alovely dance. Oh, she won't be very happy over it. She doesn'tknow my Fauchery: a dirty gent he is, too, palling up with womenlike that so as to get on in the world. Oh, a nice lot they are!"Vandeuvres did his best to calm her down, but Bordenave, deserted byRose and by Lucy, grew angry and cried out that they were lettingPapa perish of hunger and thirst. This produced a fortunatediversion. Yet the supper was flagging; no one was eating now,though platefuls of cepes a' l'italienne and pineapple fritters a laPompadour were being mangled. The champagne, however, which hadbeen drunk ever since the soup course, was beginning little bylittle to warm the guests into a state of nervous exaltation. Theyended by paying less attention to decorum than before. The womenbegan leaning on their elbows amid the disordered tablearrangements, while the men, in order to breathe more easily, pushedtheir chairs back, and soon the black coats appeared buried betweenthe light-colored bodices, and bare shoulders, half turned towardthe table, began to gleam as soft as silk. It was too hot, and theglare of the candles above the table grew ever yellower and duller.Now and again, when a women bent forward, the back of her neckglowed golden under a rain of curls, and the glitter of a diamondclasp lit up a lofty chignon. There was a touch of fire in thepassing jests, in the laughing eyes, in the sudden gleam of whiteteeth, in the reflection of the candelabra on the surface of a glassof champagne. The company joked at the tops of their voices,gesticulated, asked questions which no one answered and called toone another across the whole length of the room. But the loudestdin was made by the waiters; they fancied themselves at home in thecorridors of their parent restaurant; they jostled one another andserved the ices and the dessert to an accompaniment of gutturalexclamations."My children," shouted Bordenave, "you know we're playing tomorrow.Be careful! Not too much champagne!""As far as I'm concerned," said Foucarmont, "I've drunk everyimaginable kind of wine in all the four quarters of the globe.Extraordinary liquors some of 'em, containing alcohol enough to killa corpse! Well, and what d'you think? Why, it never hurt me a bit.I can't make myself drunk. I've tried and I can't."He was very pale, very calm and collected, and he lolled back in hischair, drinking without cessation."Never mind that," murmured Louise Violaine. "Leave off; you've hadenough. It would be a funny business if I had to look after you therest of the night."Such was her state of exaltation that Lucy Stewart's cheeks wereassuming a red, consumptive flush, while Rose Mignon with moisteyelids was growing excessively melting. Tatan Nene, greatlyastonished at the thought that she had overeaten herself, waslaughing vaguely over her own stupidity. The others, such asBlanche, Caroline, Simonne and Maria, were all talking at once andtelling each other about their private affairs--about a dispute witha coachman, a projected picnic and innumerable complex stories oflovers stolen or restored. Meanwhile a young man near Georges,having evinced a desire to kiss Lea de Horn, received a sharp rap,accompanied by a "Look here, you, let me go!" which was spoken in atone of fine indignation; and Georges, who was now very tipsy andgreatly excited by the sight of Nana, hesitated about carrying out aproject which he had been gravely maturing. He had been planning,indeed, to get under the table on all fours and to go and crouch atNana's feet like a little dog. Nobody would have seen him, and hewould have stayed there in the quietest way. But when at Lea'surgent request Daguenet had told the young man to sit still, Georgesall at once felt grievously chagrined, as though the reproof hadjust been leveled at him. Oh, it was all silly and slow, and therewas nothing worth living for! Daguenet, nevertheless, beganchaffing and obliged him to swallow a big glassful of water, askinghim at the same time what he would do if he were to find himselfalone with a woman, seeing that three glasses of champagne were ableto bowl him over."Why, in Havana," resumed Foucarmont, "they make a spirit with acertain wild berry; you think you're swallowing fire! Well now, oneevening I drank more than a liter of it, and it didn't hurt me onebit. Better than that, another time when we were on the coast ofCoromandel some savages gave us I don't know what sort of a mixtureof pepper and vitriol, and that didn't hurt me one bit. I can'tmake myself drunk."For some moments past La Faloise's face opposite had excited hisdispleasure. He began sneering and giving vent to disagreeablewitticisms. La Faloise, whose brain was in a whirl, was behavingvery restlessly and squeezing up against Gaga. But at length hebecame the victim of anxiety; somebody had just taken hishandkerchief, and with drunken obstinacy he demanded it back again,asked his neighbors about it, stooped down in order to look underthe chairs and the guests' feet. And when Gaga did her best toquiet him:"It's a nuisance," he murmured, "my initials and my coronet areworked in the corner. They may compromise me.""I say, Monsieur Falamoise, Lamafoise, Mafaloise!" shoutedFoucarmont, who thought it exceedingly witty thus to disfigure theyoung man's name ad infinitum.But La Faloise grew wroth and talked with a stutter about hisancestry. He threatened to send a water bottle at Foucarmont'shead, and Count de Vandeuvres had to interfere in order to assurehim that Foucarmont was a great joker. Indeed, everybody waslaughing. This did for the already flurried young man, who was veryglad to resume his seat and to begin eating with childlikesubmissiveness when in a loud voice his cousin ordered him to feed.Gaga had taken him back to her ample side; only from time to time hecast sly and anxious glances at the guests, for he ceased not tosearch for his handkerchief.Then Foucarmont, being now in his witty vein, attacked Labordetteright at the other end of the table. Louise Violaine strove to makehim hold his tongue, for, she said, "when he goes nagging at otherpeople like that it always ends in mischief for me." He haddiscovered a witticism which consisted in addressing Labordette as"Madame," and it must have amused him greatly, for he kept onrepeating it while Labordette tranquilly shrugged his shoulders andas constantly replied:"Pray hold your tongue, my dear fellow; it's stupid."But as Foucarmont failed to desist and even became insulting withouthis neighbors knowing why, he left off answering him and appealed toCount Vandeuvres."Make your friend hold his tongue, monsieur. I don't wish to becomeangry."Foucarmont had twice fought duels, and he was in consequence mostpolitely treated and admitted into every circle. But there was nowa general uprising against him. The table grew merry at hissallies, for they thought him very witty, but that was no reason whythe evening should be spoiled. Vandeuvres, whose subtle countenancewas darkening visibly, insisted on his restoring Labordette his sex.The other men--Mignon, Steiner and Bordenave--who were by this timemuch exalted, also intervened with shouts which drowned his voice.Only the old gentleman sitting forgotten next to Nana retained hisstately demeanor and, still smiling in his tired, silent way,watched with lackluster eyes the untoward finish of the dessert."What do you say to our taking coffee in here, duckie?" saidBordenave. "We're very comfortable."Nana did not give an immediate reply. Since the beginning of suppershe had seemed no longer in her own house. All this company hadoverwhelmed and bewildered her with their shouts to the waiters, theloudness of their voices and the way in which they put themselves attheir ease, just as though they were in a restaurant. Forgettingher role of hostess, she busied herself exclusively with bulkySteiner, who was verging on apoplexy beside her. She was listeningto his proposals and continually refusing them with shakes of thehead and that temptress's laughter which is peculiar to a voluptuousblonde. The champagne she had been drinking had flushed her a rosy-red; her lips were moist; her eyes sparkled, and the banker's offersrose with every kittenish movement of her shoulders, with everylittle voluptuous lift and fall of her throat, which occurred whenshe turned her head. Close by her ear he kept espying a sweetlittle satiny corner which drove him crazy. Occasionally Nana wasinterrupted, and then, remembering her guests, she would try and beas pleased as possible in order to show that she knew how toreceive. Toward the end of the supper she was very tipsy. It madeher miserable to think of it, but champagne had a way ofintoxicating her almost directly! Then an exasperating notionstruck her. In behaving thus improperly at her table, these ladieswere showing themselves anxious to do her an ugly turn. Oh yes, shecould see it all distinctly. Lucy had given Foucarmont a wink inorder to egg him on against Labordette, while Rose, Caroline and theothers were doing all they could to stir up the men. Now there wassuch a din you couldn't hear your neighbor speak, and so the storywould get about that you might allow yourself every kind of libertywhen you supped at Nana's. Very well then! They should see! Shemight be tipsy, if you like, but she was still the smartest and mostladylike woman there."Do tell them to serve the coffee here, duckie," resumed Bordenave."I prefer it here because of my leg."But Nana had sprung savagely to her feet after whispering into theastonished ears of Steiner and the old gentleman:"It's quite right; it'll teach me to go and invite a dirty lot likethat."Then she pointed to the door of the dining room and added at the topof her voice:"If you want coffee it's there, you know."The company left the table and crowded toward the dining roomwithout noticing Nana's indignant outburst. And soon no one wasleft in the drawing room save Bordenave, who advanced cautiously,supporting himself against the wall and cursing away at theconfounded women who chucked Papa the moment they were chock-full.The waiters behind him were already busy removing the plates anddishes in obedience to the loudly voiced orders of the manager.They rushed to and fro, jostled one another, caused the whole tableto vanish, as a pantomime property might at the sound of the chiefscene-shifter's whistle. The ladies and gentlemen were to return tothe drawing room after drinking their coffee."By gum, it's less hot here," said Gaga with a slight shiver as sheentered the dining room.The window here had remained open. Two lamps illuminated the table,where coffee and liqueurs were set out. There were no chairs, andthe guests drank their coffee standing, while the hubbub the waiterswere making in the next room grew louder and louder. Nana haddisappeared, but nobody fretted about her absence. They did withouther excellently well, and everybody helped himself and rummaged inthe drawers of the sideboard in search of teaspoons, which werelacking. Several groups were formed; people separated during supperrejoined each other, and there was an interchange of glances, ofmeaning laughter and of phrases which summed up recent situations."Ought not Monsieur Fauchery to come and lunch with us one of thesedays, Auguste?" said Rose Mignon.Mignon, who was toying with his watch chain, eyed the journalist fora second or two with his severe glance. Rose was out of her senses.As became a good manager, he would put a stop to such spendthriftcourses. In return for a notice, well and good, but afterward,decidedly not. Nevertheless, as he was fully aware of his wife'swrongheadedness and as he made it a rule to wink paternally at afolly now and again, when such was necessary, he answered amiablyenough:"Certainly, I shall be most happy. Pray come tomorrow, MonsieurFauchery."Lucy Stewart heard this invitation given while she was talking withSteiner and Blanche and, raising her voice, she remarked to thebanker:"It's a mania they've all of them got. One of them even went so faras to steal my dog. Now, dear boy, am I to blame if you chuck her?"Rose turned round. She was very pale and gazed fixedly at Steineras she sipped her coffee. And then all the concentrated anger shefelt at his abandonment of her flamed out in her eyes. She saw moreclearly than Mignon; it was stupid in him to have wished to beginthe Jonquier ruse a second time--those dodgers never succeeded twicerunning. Well, so much the worse for him! She would have Fauchery!She had been getting enamored of him since the beginning of supper,and if Mignon was not pleased it would teach him greater wisdom!"You are not going to fight?" said Vandeuvres, coming over to LucyStewart."No, don't be afraid of that! Only she must mind and keep quiet, orI let the cat out of the bag!"Then signing imperiously to Fauchery:"I've got your slippers at home, my little man. I'll get them takento your porter's lodge for you tomorrow."He wanted to joke about it, but she swept off, looking like a queen.Clarisse, who had propped herself against a wall in order to drink aquiet glass of kirsch, was seen to shrug her shoulders. A pleasantbusiness for a man! Wasn't it true that the moment two women weretogether in the presence of their lovers their first idea was to doone another out of them? It was a law of nature! As to herself,why, in heaven's name, if she had wanted to she would have torn outGaga's eyes on Hector's account! But la, she despised him! Then asLa Faloise passed by, she contented herself by remarking to him:"Listen, my friend, you like 'em well advanced, you do! You don'twant 'em ripe; you want 'em mildewed!"La Faloise seemed much annoyed and not a little anxious. SeeingClarisse making game of him, he grew suspicious of her."No humbug, I say," he muttered. "You've taken my handkerchief.Well then, give it back!""He's dreeing us with that handkerchief of his!" she cried. "Why,you ass, why should I have taken it from you?""Why should you?" he said suspiciously. "Why, that you may send itto my people and compromise me."In the meantime Foucarmont was diligently attacking the liqueurs.He continued to gaze sneeringly at Labordette, who was drinking hiscoffee in the midst of the ladies. And occasionally he gave vent tofragmentary assertions, as thus: "He's the son of a horse dealer;some say the illegitimate child of a countess. Never a penny ofincome, yet always got twenty-five louis in his pocket! Footboy tothe ladies of the town! A big lubber, who never goes with any of'em! Never, never, never!" he repeated, growing furious. "No, byJove! I must box his ears."He drained a glass of chartreuse. The chartreuse had not theslightest effect upon him; it didn't affect him "even to thatextent," and he clicked his thumbnail against the edge of his teeth.But suddenly, just as he was advancing upon Labordette, he grew ashywhite and fell down in a heap in front of the sideboard. He wasdead drunk. Louise Violaine was beside herself. She had been quiteright to prophesy that matters would end badly, and now she wouldhave her work cut out for the remainder of the night. Gagareassured her. She examined the officer with the eye of a woman ofexperience and declared that there was nothing much the matter andthat the gentleman would sleep like that for at least a dozen orfifteen hours without any serious consequences. Foucarmont wascarried off."Well, where's Nana gone to?" asked Vandeuvres.Yes, she had certainly flown away somewhere on leaving the table.The company suddenly recollected her, and everybody asked for her.Steiner, who for some seconds had been uneasy on her account, askedVandeuvres about the old gentleman, for he, too, had disappeared.But the count reassured him--he had just brought the old gentlemanback. He was a stranger, whose name it was useless to mention.Suffice it to say that he was a very rich man who was quite pleasedto pay for suppers! Then as Nana was once more being forgotten,Vandeuvres saw Daguenet looking out of an open door and beckoning tohim. And in the bedroom he found the mistress of the house sittingup, white-lipped and rigid, while Daguenet and Georges stood gazingat her with an alarmed expression."What is the matter with you?" he asked in some surprise.She neither answered nor turned her head, and he repeated hisquestion."Why, this is what's the matter with me," she cried out at length;"I won't let them make bloody sport of me!"Thereupon she gave vent to any expression that occurred to her.Yes, oh yes, she wasn't a ninny--she could see clearly enough. Theyhad been making devilish light of her during supper and saying allsorts of frightful things to show that they thought nothing of her!A pack of sluts who weren't fit to black her boots! Catch herbothering herself again just to be badgered for it after! Shereally didn't know what kept her from chucking all that dirty lotout of the house! And with this, rage choked her and her voicebroke down in sobs."Come, come, my lass, you're drunk," said Vandeuvres, growingfamiliar. "You must be reasonable."No, she would give her refusal now; she would stay where she was."I am drunk--it's quite likely! But I want people to respect me!"For a quarter of an hour past Daguenet and Georges had been vainlybeseeching her to return to the drawing room. She was obstinate,however; her guests might do what they liked; she despised them toomuch to come back among them.No, she never would, never. They might tear her in pieces beforeshe would leave her room!"I ought to have had my suspicions," she resumed."It's that cat of a Rose who's got the plot up! I'm certain Rose'llhave stopped that respectable woman coming whom I was expectingtonight."She referred to Mme Robert. Vandeuvres gave her his word of honorthat Mme Robert had given a spontaneous refusal. He listened and heargued with much gravity, for he was well accustomed to similarscenes and knew how women in such a state ought to be treated. Butthe moment he tried to take hold of her hands in order to lift herup from her chair and draw her away with him she struggled free ofhis clasp, and her wrath redoubled. Now, just look at that! Theywould never get her to believe that Fauchery had not put the CountMuffat off coming! A regular snake was that Fauchery, an envioussort, a fellow capable of growing mad against a woman and ofdestroying her whole happiness. For she knew this--the count hadbecome madly devoted to her! She could have had him!"Him, my dear, never!" cried Vandeuvres, forgetting himself andlaughing loud."Why not?" she asked, looking serious and slightly sobered."Because he's thoroughly in the hands of the priests, and if he wereonly to touch you with the tips of his fingers he would go andconfess it the day after. Now listen to a bit of good advice.Don't let the other man escape you!"She was silent and thoughtful for a moment or two. Then she got upand went and bathed her eyes. Yet when they wanted to take her intothe dining room she still shouted "No!" furiously. Vandeuvres leftthe bedroom, smiling and without further pressing her, and themoment he was gone she had an access of melting tenderness, threwherself into Daguenet's arms and cried out:"Ah, my sweetie, there's only you in the world. I love you! Yes, Ilove you from the bottom of my heart! Oh, it would be too nice ifwe could always live together. My God! How unfortunate women are!"Then her eye fell upon Georges, who, seeing them kiss, was growingvery red, and she kissed him too. Sweetie could not be jealous of ababy! She wanted Paul and Georges always to agree, because it wouldbe so nice for them all three to stay like that, knowing all thetime that they loved one another very much. But an extraordinarynoise disturbed them: someone was snoring in the room. Whereuponafter some searching they perceived Bordenave, who, since taking hiscoffee, must have comfortably installed himself there. He wassleeping on two chairs, his head propped on the edge of the bed andhis leg stretched out in front. Nana thought him so funny with hisopen mouth and his nose moving with each successive snore that shewas shaken with a mad fit of laughter. She left the room, followedby Daguenet and Georges, crossed the dining room, entered thedrawing room, her merriment increasing at every step."Oh, my dear, you've no idea!" she cried, almost throwing herselfinto Rose's arms. "Come and see it."All the women had to follow her. She took their hands coaxingly anddrew them along with her willy-nilly, accompanying her action withso frank an outburst of mirth that they all of them began laughingon trust. The band vanished and returned after standingbreathlessly for a second or two round Bordenave's lordly,outstretched form. And then there was a burst of laughter, and whenone of them told the rest to be quiet Bordenave's distant snoringsbecame audible.It was close on four o'clock. In the dining room a card table hadjust been set out, at which Vandeuvres, Steiner, Mignon andLabordette had taken their seats. Behind them Lucy and Carolinestood making bets, while Blanche, nodding with sleep anddissatisfied about her night, kept asking Vandeuvres at intervals offive minutes if they weren't going soon. In the drawing room therewas an attempt at dancing. Daguenet was at the piano or "chest ofdrawers," as Nana called it. She did not want a "thumper," for Mimiwould play as many waltzes and polkas as the company desired. Butthe dance was languishing, and the ladies were chatting drowsilytogether in the corners of sofas. Suddenly, however, there was anoutburst of noise. A band of eleven young men had arrived and werelaughing loudly in the anteroom and crowding to the drawing room.They had just come from the ball at the Ministry of the Interior andwere in evening dress and wore various unknown orders. Nana wasannoyed at this riotous entry, called to the waiters who stillremained in the kitchen and ordered them to throw these individualsout of doors. She vowed that she had never seen any of them before.Fauchery, Labordette, Daguenet and the rest of the men had all comeforward in order to enforce respectful behavior toward theirhostess. Big words flew about; arms were outstretched, and for someseconds a general exchange of fisticuffs was imminent.Notwithstanding this, however, a little sickly looking light-hairedman kept insistently repeating:"Come, come, Nana, you saw us the other evening at Peters' in thegreat red saloon! Pray remember, you invited us."The other evening at Peters'? She did not remember it all. Tobegin with, what evening?And when the little light-haired man had mentioned the day, whichwas Wednesday, she distinctly remembered having supped at Peters' onthe Wednesday, but she had given no invitation to anyone; she wasalmost sure of that."However, suppose you have invited them, my good girl," murmuredLabordette, who was beginning to have his doubts. "Perhaps you werea little elevated."Then Nana fell a-laughing. It was quite possible; she really didn'tknow. So then, since these gentlemen were on the spot, they had herleave to come in. Everything was quietly arranged; several of thenewcomers found friends in the drawing room, and the scene ended inhandshakings. The little sickly looking light-haired man bore oneof the greatest names in France. Furthermore, the eleven announcedthat others were to follow them, and, in fact, the door opened everyfew moments, and men in white gloves and official garb presentedthemselves. They were still coming from the ball at the Ministry.Fauchery jestingly inquired whether the minister was not coming,too, but Nana answered in a huff that the minister went to thehouses of people she didn't care a pin for. What she did not saywas that she was possessed with a hope of seeing Count Muffat enterher room among all that stream of people. He might quite havereconsidered his decision, and so while talking to Rose she kept asharp eye on the door.Five o'clock struck. The dancing had ceased, and the cardplayersalone persisted in their game. Labordette had vacated his seat, andthe women had returned into the drawing room. The air there washeavy with the somnolence which accompanies a long vigil, and thelamps cast a wavering light while their burned-out wicks glowed redwithin their globes. The ladies had reached that vaguely melancholyhour when they felt it necessary to tell each other their histories.Blanche de Sivry spoke of her grandfather, the general, whileClarisse invented a romantic story about a duke seducing her at heruncle's house, whither he used to come for the boar hunting. Bothwomen, looking different ways, kept shrugging their shoulders andasking themselves how the deuce the other could tell such whoppers!As to Lucy Stewart, she quietly confessed to her origin and of herown accord spoke of her childhood and of the days when her father,the wheel greaser at the Northern Railway Terminus, used to treather to an apple puff on Sundays."Oh, I must tell you about it!" cried the little Maria Blondabruptly. "Opposite to me there lives a gentleman, a Russian, anawfully rich man! Well, just fancy, yesterday I received a basketof fruit--oh, it just was a basket! Enormous peaches, grapes as bigas that, simply wonderful for the time of year! And in the middleof them six thousand-franc notes! It was the Russian's doing. Ofcourse I sent the whole thing back again, but I must say my heartached a little--when I thought of the fruit!"The ladies looked at one another and pursed up their lips. At herage little Maria Blond had a pretty cheek! Besides, to think thatsuch things should happen to trollops like her! Infinite was theircontempt for her among themselves. It was Lucy of whom they wereparticularly jealous, for they were beside themselves at the thoughtof her three princes. Since Lucy had begnn taking a daily morningride in the Bois they all had become Amazons, as though a maniapossessed them.Day was about to dawn, and Nana turned her eyes away from the door,for she was relinquishing all hope. The company were bored todistraction. Rose Mignon had refused to sing the "Slipper" and sathuddled up on a sofa, chatting in a low voice with Fauchery andwaiting for Mignon, who had by now won some fifty louis fromVandeuvres. A fat gentleman with a decoration and a serious cast ofcountenance had certainly given a recitation in Alsatian accents of"Abraham's Sacrifice," a piece in which the Almighty says, "By Myblasted Name" when He swears, and Isaac always answers with a "Yes,Papa!" Nobody, however, understood what it was all about, and thepiece had been voted stupid. People were at their wits' end how tomake merry and to finish the night with fitting hilarity. For amoment or two Labordette conceived the idea of denouncing differentwomen in a whisper to La Faloise, who still went prowling round eachindividual lady, looking to see if she were hiding his handkerchiefin her bosom. Soon, as there were still some bottles of champagneon the sideboard, the young men again fell to drinking. Theyshouted to one another; they stirred each other up, but a drearyspecies of intoxication, which was stupid enough to drive one todespair, began to overcome the company beyond hope of recovery.Then the little fair-haired fellow, the man who bore one of thegreatest names in France and had reached his wit's end and wasdesperate at the thought that he could not hit upon something reallyfunny, conceived a brilliant notion: he snatched up his bottle ofchampagne and poured its contents into the piano. His allies wereconvulsed with laughter."La now! Why's he putting champagne into the piano?" asked TatanNene in great astonishment as she caught sight of him."What, my lass, you don't know why he's doing that?" repliedLabordette solemnly. "There's nothing so good as champagne forpianos. It gives 'em tone.""Ah," murmured Tatan Nene with conviction.And when the rest began laughing at her she grew angry. How shouldshe know? They were always confusing her.Decidedly the evening was becoming a big failure. The nightthreatened to end in the unloveliest way. In a corner by themselvesMaria Blond and Lea de Horn had begun squabbling at close quarters,the former accusing the latter of consorting with people ofinsufficient wealth. They were getting vastly abusive over it,their chief stumbling block being the good looks of the men inquestion. Lucy, who was plain, got them to hold their tongues.Good looks were nothing, according to her; good figures were whatwas wanted. Farther off, on a sofa, an attache had slipped his armround Simonne's waist and was trying to kiss her neck, but Simonne,sullen and thoroughly out of sorts, pushed him away at every freshattempt with cries of "You're pestering me!" and sound slaps of thefan across his face. For the matter of that, not one of the ladiesallowed herself to be touched. Did people take them for lightwomen? Gaga, in the meantime, had once more caught La Faloise andhad almost hoisted him upon her knees while Clarisse wasdisappearing from view between two gentlemen, shaking with nervouslaughter as women will when they are tickled. Round about the pianothey were still busy with their little game, for they were sufferingfrom a fit of stupid imbecillty, which caused each man to jostle hisfellow in his frantic desire to empty his bottle into theinstrument. It was a simple process and a charming one."Now then, old boy, drink a glass! Devil take it, he's a thirstypiano! Hi! 'Tenshun! Here's another bottle! You mustn't lose adrop!"Nana's back was turned, and she did not see them. Emphatically shewas now falling back on the bulky Steiner, who was seated next toher. So much the worse! It was all on account of that Muffat, whohad refused what was offered him. Sitting there in her whitefoulard dress, which was as light and full of folds as a shift,sitting there with drooped eyelids and cheeks pale with the touch ofintoxication from which she was suffering, she offered herself tohim with that quiet expression which is peculiar to a good-naturedcourtesan. The roses in her hair and at her throat had lost theirleaves, and their stalks alone remained. Presently Steiner withdrewhis hand quickly from the folds of her skirt, where he had come incontact with the pins that Georges had stuck there. Some drops ofblood appeared on his fingers, and one fell on Nana's dress andstained it."Now the bargain's struck," said Nana gravely.The day was breaking apace. An uncertain glimmer of light, fraughtwith a poignant melancholy, came stealing through the windows. Andwith that the guests began to take their departure. It was a mostsour and uncomfortable retreat. Caroline Hequet, annoyed at theloss of her night, announced that it was high time to be off unlessyou were anxious to assist at some pretty scenes. Rose pouted as ifher womanly character had been compromised. It was always so withthese girls; they didn't know how to behave and were guilty ofdisgusting conduct when they made their first appearance in society!And Mignon having cleaned Vandeuvres out completely, the family tooktheir departure. They did not trouble about Steiner but renewedtheir invitation for tomorrow to Fauchery. Lucy thereupon refusedthe journalist's escort home and sent him back shrilly to his"strolling actress." At this Rose turned round immediately andhissed out a "Dirty sow" by way of answer. But Mignon, who infeminine quarrels was always paternal, for his experience was a longone and rendered him superior to them, had already pushed her out ofthe house, telling her at the same time to have done. Lucy camedownstairs in solitary state behind them. After which Gaga had tocarry off La Faloise, ill, sobbing like a child, calling afterClarisse, who had long since gone off with her two gentlemen.Simonne, too, had vanished. Indeed, none remained save Tatan, Leaand Maria, whom Labordette complaisantly took under his charge."Oh, but I don't the least bit want to go to bed!" said Nana. "Oneought to find something to do."She looked at the sky through the windowpanes. It was a livid sky,and sooty clouds were scudding across it. It was six o'clock in themorning. Over the way, on the opposite side of the BoulevardHaussmann, the glistening roofs of the still-slumbering houses weresharply outlined against the twilight sky while along the desertedroadway a gang of street sweepers passed with a clatter of woodenshoes. As she viewed Paris thus grimly awakening, she was overcomeby tender, girlish feelings, by a yearning for the country, foridyllic scenes, for things soft and white."Now guess what you're to do," she said, coming back to Steiner."You're going to take me to the Bois de Boulogne, and we'll drinkmilk there."She clapped her hands in childish glee. Without waiting for thebanker's reply--he naturally consented, though he was really ratherbored and inclined to think of other things--she ran off to throw apelisse over her shoulders. In the drawing room there was now noone with Steiner save the band of young men. These had by this timedropped the very dregs of their glasses into the piano and weretalking of going, when one of their number ran in triumphantly. Heheld in his hands a last remaining bottle, which he had brought backwith him from the pantry."Wait a minute, wait a minute!" he shouted. "Here's a bottle ofchartreuse; that'll pick him up! And now, my young friends, let'shook it. We're blooming idiots."In the dressing room Nana was compelled to wake up Zoe, who haddozed off on a chair. The gas was still alight, and Zoe shivered asshe helped her mistress on with her hat and pelisse."Well, it's over; I've done what you wanted me to," said Nana,speaking familiarly to the maid in a sudden burst of expansiveconfidence and much relieved at the thought that she had at lastmade her election. "You were quite right; the banker's as good asanother."The maid was cross, for she was still heavy with sleep. Shegrumbled something to the effect that Madame ought to have come to adecision the first evening. Then following her into the bedroom,she asked what she was going to do with "those two," meaningBordenave, who was snoring away as usual, and Georges, who hadslipped in slyly, buried his head in a pillow and, finally fallingasleep there, was now breathing as lightly and regularly as acherub. Nana in reply told her that she was to let them sleep on.But seeing Daguenet come into the room, she again grew tender. Hehad been watching her from the kitchen and was looking verywretched."Come, my sweetie, be reasonable," she said, taking him in her armsand kissing him with all sorts of little wheedling caresses."Nothing's changed; you know that it's sweetie whom I always adore!Eh, dear? I had to do it. Why, I swear to you we shall have evennicer times now. Come tomorrow, and we'll arrange about hours. Nowbe quick, kiss and hug me as you love me. Oh, tighter, tighter thanthat!"And she escaped and rejoined Steiner, feeling happy and once morepossessed with the idea of drinking milk. In the empty room theCount de Vandeuvres was left alone with the "decorated" man who hadrecited "Abraham's Sacrifice." Both seemed glued to the card table;they had lost count of their whereabouts and never once noticed thebroad light of day without, while Blanche had made bold to put herfeet up on a sofa in order to try and get a little sleep."Oh, Blanche is with them!" cried Nana. "We are going to drinkmilk, dear. Do come; you'll find Vandeuvres here when we return."Blanche got up lazily. This time the banker's fiery face grew whitewith annoyance at the idea of having to take that big wench with himtoo. She was certain to bore him. But the two women had alreadygot him by the arms and were reiterating:"We want them to milk the cow before our eyes, you know."