Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [47]
“Why, of course! they espouse God, when they cannot marry their cousin,” said Vandeuvres between his teeth, thoroughly bored with the subject, as he went and joined Fauchery. “My boy, have you ever seen a woman beloved become a nun?” He did not wait for a reply, he had had enough of it; and in a low voice he added, “I say, how many shall we be to-morrow? There will be the Mignons, Steiner, you, Blanche, and myself. Who else?”
“Caroline, I think, Simone, Gaga for certain. One never knows exactly, you know. On such occasions, one expects about twenty and thirty turn up.”
Vandeuvres, who was looking at the ladies, turned to another subject. “She must have been very good looking, Madame du Joncquoy, fifteen years ago. That poor Estelle seems to have grown longer than ever. What a plank she’ll be to put in a bed!” But he interrupted himself, and returned to the question of the supper. “The nuisance in that sort of things is that one always meets the same women. We ought to have some new ones. Try and discover one. Wait! I have an idea! I’ll go and ask that stout man to bring the girl he was lugging about at the Variety Theatre the other evening.”
He was speaking of the head of the department, who was dozing in the middle of the room. Fauchery amused himself by watching the delicate negotiation from a distance. Vandeuvres seated himself beside the stout man, who continued to look very dignified. For a short time they both seemed to discuss, with all the seriousness it merited, the weighty question of the moment, which was what real reason a young girl could have for becoming a nun. Then the count returned, saying,
“It isn’t possible. He swears that she is virtuous. She would be sure to refuse. Yet, I would have bet that I had seen her at Laure’s.”
“What! you go to Laure’s!” murmured Fauchery with a laugh. “You venture to risk your person in such places! I thought it was only we poor devils who did that! ”
“Oh! dear boy, one must see everything.” Then they both chuckled, and their eyes sparkled as they gave each other different details about the dining place in the Rue des Martyrs, where fat Laure Piédefer, for three francs a head, provided dinner for ladies who were down in their luck. It was a dirty hole! All the little women kissed Laure on the mouth. Then, as the countess looked in their direction, having overheard a word or two, they moved away together, both very lively and highly amused. They had not noticed George Hugon standing near them, listening, and blushing so hard that from his neck to his ears he became quite red. The baby was full of a mixture of shame and rapture. Since his mother had left him alone in the drawing-room, he had hovered round about Madame de Chezelles, the only woman whom he thought at all up to anything, and yet Nana could give her a lot!
“Last night,” Madame Hugon was saying, “George took me to the theatre. Yes, to the Variety, where I had certainly not been for ten years or more. The child adores music. As for myself, it did not amuse me much, but he seemed so happy! They bring out most peculiar pieces now-a-days. I must admit, however, that I have no great taste for music.”
“What! madame, you do not care for music!” exclaimed Madame du Joncquoy, raising her eyes to heaven. “Is it possible that everybody does not like music?”
The exclamation was general. No one offered a remark in reference to the piece produced at the Variety Theatre, and of which the worthy Madame Hugon had not understood anything ; the other ladies knew about it, but would