Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [127]
They had cut the Twelfth Night cake. The bean had fallen to Madame Lerat, who at once put it in Bosc’s glass. Then they all shouted: “The king drinks! the king drinks!” Nana took advantage of this outburst of gaiety to put her arms round Fontan’s neck and kiss him, and whisper in his ear. But Prulliere, with the vexed laugh of a handsome fellow who finds his good looks are not appreciated, cried out that it was not fair. Little Louis had been put to sleep on two chairs; and the party did not break up till one in the morning, the guests calling out “good-night” as they descended the stairs.
And for three weeks the life of the two lovers was sweet indeed. Nana thought herself back again at the commencement of her career, when her first silk dress had caused her so much pleasure. She went out but little, affecting solitude and simplicity. One morning early, when going to buy some fish at the Rochefoucauld market, she was astonished to find herself face to face with Francis, the hairdresser. He was dressed with his habitual correctness, fine clean linen, and an irreproachable overcoat; and she was ashamed at being seen by him in the street in a dirty morning gown, her hair all in disorder, and with a pair of old shoes upon her feet. But he had the tact to be even more exaggerated in his politeness. He did not ask a question, but pretended to think that madame had been abroad. Ah! madame had broken a great many hearts by going away! It was a loss for all the world. The young woman, however, seized with a curiosity which ended by dispelling her first embarrassment, could not refrain from questioning him. As the crowd kept jostling against them, she drew him into a doorway, and stood in front of him, with her little basket in her hand. What was being said about her little escapade? Well! really, the ladies at whose houses he called said this and that; in short, it had caused quite a commotion and was undoubtedly a tremendous success. And Steiner? M. Steiner had fallen very low; he would end badly, unless he succeeded in some fresh speculation. And Daguenet? Oh! he was doing very well; M. Daguenet was settling down. Nana, excited by her reminiscences, was on the point of asking some fresh question, but she felt a restraint in uttering Muffat’s name. Then Francis smilingly alluded to him. As for the count, it was shocking to see him, he had suffered so much after madame’s departure; he looked like the ghost of some unburied corpse, as he wandered about the various places that madame used to frequent. However, M. Mignon, having come across him, had taken him home. This news made Nana laugh, but in a constrained manner.
“Ah! so he’s with Rose now,” said she. “Well, you know, Francis, I don’t care a hang! The old hypocrite! He’s got into such habits, he can’t even abstain from them for a few days! And he swore that he would never have anything to do with any woman after me!” Though outwardly calm, she was in reality greatly enraged. “It’s my leavings,” she resumed. “Rose has treated herself to a queer fish! Oh! I see it all; she wanted to have her revenge for my carrying off that old beast Steiner from her. She’s done a smart thing in taking a man into her house that I turned out of mine!”
“M. Mignon tells a different story,” said the hairdresser. “According to him, it was the count who turned you out—yes, and in a rather unpleasant way, too, with a kick behind.”
On hearing this, Nana became deadly pale.
“Eh? what?” exclaimed she. “A kick behind? Well, that’s too much, that is! Why, my boy, it