Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [171]
During the row the servants had not even smiled. They seemed not to hear, becoming more majestic the more madame forgot herself. Julien poured out the champagne without flinching. Unfortunately, François, who was handing round the fruit, held the dish too much on one side, and the apples, the pears, the grapes, rolled all over the table.
“Stupid fool!” cried Nana.
The footman made the mistake of trying to explain that the fruit was not placed securely on the dish. Zoé had disturbed it in removing some oranges.
“Then,” said Nana, “Zoé’s a fool.”
“But, madame—” murmured the maid, very much hurt.
At this madame rose, and with a gesture of royal authority said curtly, “That’s enough, I think! Leave the room, all of you! We no longer require you.”
This execution calmed her. She at once became very quiet and very amiable. The dessert passed off most pleasantly; and gentlemen were greatly amused at having to help themselves. But Satin, who had peeled a pear, went to eat it standing up behind her darling, leaning against her shoulders, and whispering things in her ear which made them both laugh very much; then she wished to share her last piece of pear, and held it out to Nana between her teeth, and their lips touched as they finished the fruit in a kiss. This produced a comical protest from the gentlemen. Philippe called to them not to stand on ceremony. Vandeuvres asked if they would like him to leave the room. George went and took hold of Satin round the waist and led her back to her seat.
“How silly you are!” said Nana, “you make the little darling blush. Never mind, my love, don’t take any notice of them. That’s our business.” And, turning towards Muffat, who was looking on in his solemn way, she added, “Isn’t it, dear?”
“Yes, certainly,” murmured he, slowly nodding his head.
There were no more protests. In the midst of these gentlemen, of these great names, these ancient integrities, the two women, seated in front of each other, exchanging tender glances, imposed themselves, and reigned with the cool abuse of their sex and their avowed contempt for man. They applauded.
The coffee was served upstairs in the parlour. Two lamps lighted up with their feeble light the rose-colour hangings, the lacquer and old gold knick-knacks. There was at this hour of the night, in the midst of the caskets, the bronzes, the china a discreet glimmer which illumined the gold and ivory incrustations, shone on the gloss of some carved wand, and watered a panel with a silky reflex. The afternoon fire had burnt low, it was very warm, a debilitating heat was confined by the heavy curtains and hangings. And in this room, all full of Nana’s private life, where her gloves, a handkerchief, an open book, lay scattered about, one met her free from all ceremony, with her odour of violets, her jolly-girl kind of disorder, creating a charming effect amongst all that wealth; whilst the easy-chairs as big as beds, and the sofas as deep as alcoves, seemed to invite to somnolence, forgetful of the flight of time, to sweet words whispered in the shadows of their corners.
Satin went and stretched herself out on a sofa near the fireplace. She lit a cigarette; but Vandeuvres amused himself with pretending to be awfully jealous of her, and threatened to challenge her if she again turned Nana from her duties. Philippe and George joined in, teased her, and pinched her so hard, that she ended by crying out,
“Darling! darling! do make them leave off! They’re annoying me again.”
“Come, leave her alone,” said Nana seriously. “You know I won’t have her teased; and you, my deary, why do you always go with them, when you know they are so foolish?”
Satin, very red in the face, and putting out her tongue, went into the dressing-room, the open door of which showed the pale marble lighted up by the subdued flame of a gas-jet enclosed in a ground-glass globe. Then Nana conversed with the four men, with the charm pertaining to the mistress of a household. She had been reading during the day a novel that had created a great