Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [207]
“Well! yes, it’s I. Don’t you recollect?”
No, she remembered nothing. So he had to crudely refresh her memory, in his jocular way.
“Why, your commission. I’ve brought you the handsel of my innocence. ”
Then, as he was close to the bed, she seized hold of him with her bare arms, shaking with laughter and, almost weeping, for she thought it so nice of him.
“Ah! my Mimi, how funny he is! He has not forgotten it! and I who no longer remembered! So you’ve given them the slip, you’ve just come from the church? It’s true—you’ve an odour of incense about you. But kiss me—! oh! more than that, my Mimi! It will perhaps be for the last time.”
Their tender laugh expired in the darkened room, about which there still hung a vague smell of ether. The close warmth swelled the window curtains, children’s voices sounded in the Avenue. Then they made merry, though pressed for time. Daguenet was to leave with his wife, directly after the wedding breakfast.
CHAPTER XIII
Towards the end of September, Count Muffat, who was to dine at Nana’s that evening, came at dusk to inform her of a sudden order he had received to be at the Tuileries. The house was not yet lighted up, the servants were laughing very loudly in the kitchen. He slowly ascended the staircase, the windows of which shone in the prevailing warm shadow. Upstairs, the parlour door made no noise as he opened it. A rosy daylight was fading from the ceiling of the room. The crimson hangings, the capacious sofas, the lacquer furniture, all that medley of embroidered stuffs, of bronzes and of china, was already disappearing beneath a slowly deepening veil of gloom, which penetrated the corners, hiding alike the brilliancy of the ivory and the glitter of the gold. And there, in this obscurity, by the aid alone of the light colour of her dress, he beheld Nana reclining in George’s arms. All denial on their part was impossible. He uttered a suppressed cry, and stood as one lost.
Nana sprang to her feet and pushed him into the bedroom, to give the youngster time to get off.
“Come in here,” she murmured, scarcely knowing what she said. “I will explain—”
She was exasperated at being caught like that. She had never before given way in such a manner at home, in that parlour with the doors unfastened. A number of things had tended to bring it about—a quarrel with George, who was madly jealous of Philippe. He sobbed so bitterly on her neck that she could not resist, scarcely knowing how to calm him, and pitying him in her heart. And, on the one occasion when she was so foolish as to forget herself thus—with a youngster who could not even bring her bunches of violets now, as his mother guarded him so strictly—the count must needs come and catch them. Really, she had no luck! That was all one got by being a good-natured girl!
However, the obscurity in the bed-room, where she had 389 pushed the count, was complete. Then, feeling her way, she went and rang furiously for a lamp. After all, it was that Julien’s fault! If there had been a light in the parlour, nothing of all this would have happened. That stupid darkness which had come on had played the deuce with her heart.
“I beg of you, ducky, be reasonable,” said she, when Zoé brought a light.
The count, sitting down, his hands on his knees, looked on the ground, overcome by what he had just seen. He could not utter a word of anger. He trembled, as though seized with a horror which froze him. This silent anguish deeply affected the young woman. She tried to console him.
“Well! yes, I was wrong. It was very naughty of me. You see, I am sorry for my fault. I am very grieved, as it annoys you so much. Come now; you, too, be nice, and forgive me.”
She had sat down at his feet, and was seeking his glance with a look of submissive tenderness, to see if he was very angry with her. Then as, heaving a deep sigh, he recovered himself, she became more wheedling.