nstairs and through the rooms. Georges had passed the night
on an armchair in the drawing room. It was he who had announced the news
to Madame's friends at that hour of the evening when Madame was in the
habit of receiving. He had still been very pale, and he had told his
story very feelingly, and as though stupefied. Steiner, La Faloise,
Philippe and others, besides, had presented themselves, and at the end
of the lad's first phrase they burst into exclamations. The thing was
impossible! It must be a farce! After which they grew serious and gazed
with an embarrassed expression at her bedroom door. They shook their
heads; it was no laughing matter.

Till midnight a dozen gentlemen had stood talking in low voices in front
of the fireplace. All were friends; all were deeply exercised by the
same idea of paternity. They seemed to be mutually excusing themselves,
and they looked as confused as if they had done something clumsy.
Eventually, however, they put a bold face on the matter. It had nothing
to do with them: the fault was hers! What a stunner that Nana was, eh?
One would never have believed her capable of such a fake! And with that
they departed one by one, walking on tiptoe, as though in a chamber of
death where you cannot laugh.

"Come up all the same, monsieur," said Zoe to Muffat. "Madame is much
better and will see you. We are expecting the doctor, who promised to
come back this morning."

The lady's maid had persuaded Georges to go back home to sleep, and
upstairs in the drawing room only Satin remained. She lay stretched on a
divan, smoking a cigarette and scanning the ceiling. Amid the household
scare which had followed the accident she had been white with rage,
had shrugged her shoulders violently and had made ferocious remarks.
Accordingly, when Zoe was passing in front of her and telling Monsieur
that poor, dear Madame had suffered a great deal:

"That's right; it'll teach him!" said Satin curtly.

They turned round in surprise, but she had not moved a muscle; her eyes
were still turned toward the ceiling, and her cigarette was still wedged
tightly between her lips.

"Dear me, you're charming, you are!" said Zoe.

But Satin sat up, looked savagely at the count and once more hurled her
remark at him.

"That's right; it'll teach him!"

And she lay down again and blew forth a thin jet of smoke, as though she
had no interest in present events and were resolved not to meddle in any
of them. No, it wa