infinite
exasperation, made so bold as to intervene.

"What you're telling us isn't very cheerful."

"Eh, what? Not cheerful!" she cried with a withering glance. "I believe
you; it isn't cheerful! Somebody had to earn a living for us dear boy.
Oh yes, you know, I'm the right sort; I don't mince matters. Mamma was
a laundress; Daddy used to get drunk, and he died of it! There! If it
doesn't suit you--if you're ashamed of my family--"

They all protested. What was she after now? They had every sort of
respect for her family! But she went on:

"If you're ashamed of my family you'll please leave me, because I'm not
one of those women who deny their father and mother. You must take me
and them together, d'you understand?"

They took her as required; they accepted the dad, the mamma, the past;
in fact, whatever she chose. With their eyes fixed on the tablecloth,
the four now sat shrinking and insignificant while Nana, in a transport
of omnipotence, trampled on them in the old muddy boots worn long since
in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. She was determined not to lay down the
cudgels just yet. It was all very fine to bring her fortunes, to build
her palaces; she would never leave off regretting the time when she
munched apples! Oh, what bosh that stupid thing money was! It was made
for the tradespeople! Finally her outburst ended in a sentimentally
expressed desire for a simple, openhearted existence, to be passed in an
atmosphere of universal benevolence.

When she got to this point she noticed Julien waiting idly by.

"Well, what's the matter? Hand the champagne then!" she said. "Why d'you
stand staring at me like a goose?"

During this scene the servants had never once smiled. They apparently
heard nothing, and the more their mistress let herself down, the more
majestic they became. Julien set to work to pour out the champagne and
did so without mishap, but Francois, who was handing round the fruit,
was so unfortunate as to tilt the fruit dish too low, and the apples,
the pears and the grapes rolled on the table.

"You bloody clumsy lot!" cried Nana.

The footman was mistaken enough to try and explain that the fruit had
not been firmly piled up. Zoe had disarranged it by taking out some
oranges.

"Then it's Zoe that's the goose!" said Nana.

"Madame--" murmured the lady's maid in an injured tone.

Straightway Madame rose to her feet, and in a sharp voice and with
royally authoritative gesture:

"We've had enou