ully bolted door, began laughing at them, declaring that
she could hear them pant. They ought to be looking lovely in there with
their tongues hanging out like a lot of bowwows sitting round on their
behinds. Yesterday's success was not yet over, and this pack of men had
followed up her scent.

"Provided they don't break anything," she murmured.

She began to feel some anxiety, for she fancied she felt their hot
breath coming through chinks in the door. But Zoe ushered Labordette
in, and the young woman gave a little shout of relief. He was anxious
to tell her about an account he had settled for her at the justice of
peace's court. But she did not attend and said:

"I'll take you along with me. We'll have dinner together, and afterward
you shall escort me to the Varietes. I don't go on before half-past
nine."

Good old Labordette, how lucky it was he had come! He was a fellow who
never asked for any favors. He was only the friend of the women, whose
little bits of business he arranged for them. Thus on his way in he had
dismissed the creditors in the anteroom. Indeed, those good folks really
didn't want to be paid. On the contrary, if they HAD been pressing
for payment it was only for the sake of complimenting Madame and of
personally renewing their offers of service after her grand success of
yesterday.

"Let's be off, let's be off," said Nana, who was dressed by now.

But at that moment Zoe came in again, shouting:

"I refuse to open the door any more. They're waiting in a crowd all down
the stairs."

A crowd all down the stairs! Francis himself, despite the English
stolidity of manner which he was wont to affect, began laughing as he
put up his combs. Nana, who had already taken Labordette's arm, pushed
him into the kitchen and effected her escape. At last she was delivered
from the men and felt happily conscious that she might now enjoy his
society anywhere without fear of stupid interruptions.

"You shall see me back to my door," she said as they went down the
kitchen stairs. "I shall feel safe, in that case. Just fancy, I want to
sleep a whole night quite by myself--yes, a whole night! It's sort of
infatuation, dear boy!"

CHAPTER III

The countess Sabine, as it had become customary to call Mme Muffat de
Beuville in order to distinguish her from the count's mother, who had
died the year before, was wont to receive every Tuesday in her house in
the Rue Miromesnil at the corner of the Rue de Pent