when she was full of
the image of the man who was to be turned out of doors by her orders,
she cried out:

"I say, Zizi, your brother's not coming. He's a base deserter!"

The next day, when Georges and Nana were alone together, Francois came
upstairs to ask whether Madame would receive Lieutenant Philippe Hugon.
Georges grew extremely white and murmured:

"I suspected it; Mamma was talking about it this morning."

And he besought the young woman to send down word that she could not see
visitors. But she was already on her feet and seemed all aflame as she
said:

"Why should I not see him? He would think me afraid. Dear me, we'll have
a good laugh! Just leave the gentleman in the drawing room for a quarter
of an hour, Francois; afterward bring him up to me."

She did not sit down again but began pacing feverishly to and fro
between the fireplace and a Venetian mirror hanging above an Italian
chest. And each time she reached the latter she glanced at the glass
and tried the effect of a smile, while Georges sat nervously on a sofa,
trembling at the thought of the coming scene. As she walked up and down
she kept jerking out such little phrases as:

"It will calm the fellow down if he has to wait a quarter of an hour.
Besides, if he thinks he's calling on a tottie the drawing room will
stun him! Yes, yes, have a good look at everything, my fine fellow! It
isn't imitation, and it'll teach you to respect the lady who owns it.
Respect's what men need to feel! The quarter of an hour's gone by, eh?
No? Only ten minutes? Oh, we've got plenty of time."

She did not stay where she was, however. At the end of the quarter of
an hour she sent Georges away after making him solemnly promise not to
listen at the door, as such conduct would scarcely look proper in case
the servants saw him. As he went into her bedroom Zizi ventured in a
choking sort of way to remark:

"It's my brother, you know--"

"Don't you fear," she said with much dignity; "if he's polite I'll be
polite."

Francois ushered in Philippe Hugon, who wore morning dress. Georges
began crossing on tiptoe on the other side of the room, for he was
anxious to obey the young woman. But the sound of voices retained him,
and he hesitated in such anguish of mind that his knees gave way under
him. He began imagining that a dread catastrophe would befall, that
blows would be struck, that something abominable would happen, which
would make Nana everlastingly odious to h