let her get up.

Nevertheless, she grew calm. He would go now. She slipped on a nightgown
trimmed with lace and came and sat down on the floor in front of the
fire. It was her favorite position. When she again questioned him about
Fauchery's article Muffat replied vaguely, for he wanted to avoid a
scene. Besides, she declared that she had found a weak spot in Fauchery.
And with that she relapsed into a long silence and reflected on how to
dismiss the count. She would have liked to do it in an agreeable way,
for she was still a good-natured wench, and it bored her to cause others
pain, especially in the present instance where the man was a cuckold.
The mere thought of his being that had ended by rousing her sympathies!

"So you expect your wife tomorrow morning?" she said at last.

Muffat had stretched himself in an armchair. He looked drowsy, and his
limbs were tired. He gave a sign of assent. Nana sat gazing seriously
at him with a dull tumult in her brain. Propped on one leg, among her
slightly rumpled laces she was holding one of her bare feet between her
hands and was turning it mechanically about and about.

"Have you been married long?" she asked.

"Nineteen years," replied the count

"Ah! And is your wife amiable? Do you get on comfortably together?"

He was silent. Then with some embarrassment:

"You know I've begged you never to talk of those matters."

"Dear me, why's that?" she cried, beginning to grow vexed directly. "I'm
sure I won't eat your wife if I DO talk about her. Dear boy, why, every
woman's worth--"

But she stopped for fear of saying too much. She contented herself by
assuming a superior expression, since she considered herself extremely
kind. The poor fellow, he needed delicate handling! Besides, she had
been struck by a laughable notion, and she smiled as she looked him
carefully over.

"I say," she continued, "I haven't told you the story about you that
Fauchery's circulating. There's a viper, if you like! I don't bear him
any ill will, because his article may be all right, but he's a regular
viper all the same."

And laughing more gaily than ever, she let go her foot and, crawling
along the floor, came and propped herself against the count's knees.

"Now just fancy, he swears you were still like a babe when you married
your wife. You were still like that, eh? Is it true, eh?"

Her eyes pressed for an answer, and she raised her hands to his
shoulders and began shaking him in or