ount thought he was listening to M.
Venot, when that old gentleman endeavored to sermonize him out of the
grasp of sin. Nana, however, did not speak of breaking it off entirely:
she preached indulgent good nature and suggested that, as became a dear,
nice old fellow, he should divide his attentions between his wife and
his mistress, so that they would all enjoy a quiet life, devoid of any
kind of annoyance, something, in fact, in the nature of a happy slumber
amid the inevitable miseries of existence. Their life would be nowise
changed: he would still be the little man of her heart. Only he would
come to her a bit less often and would give the countess the nights not
passed with her. She had got to the end of her strength and left off,
speaking under her breath:

"After that I shall feel I've done a good action, and you'll love me all
the more."

Silence reigned. She had closed her eyes and lay wan upon her pillow.
The count was patiently listening to her, not wishing her to tire
herself. A whole minute went by before she reopened her eyes and
murmured:

"Besides, how about the money? Where would you get the money from if you
must grow angry and go to law? Labordette came for the bill yesterday.
As for me, I'm out of everything; I have nothing to put on now."

Then she shut her eyes again and looked like one dead. A shadow of deep
anguish had passed over Muffat's brow. Under the present stroke he had
since yesterday forgotten the money troubles from which he knew not
how to escape. Despite formal promises to the contrary, the bill for
a hundred thousand francs had been put in circulation after being once
renewed, and Labordette, pretending to be very miserable about it,
threw all the blame on Francis, declaring that he would never again mix
himself up in such a matter with an uneducated man. It was necessary
to pay, for the count would never have allowed his signature to be
protested. Then in addition to Nana's novel demands, his home expenses
were extraordinarily confused. On their return from Les Fondettes the
countess had suddenly manifested a taste for luxury, a longing for
worldly pleasures, which was devouring their fortune. Her ruinous
caprices began to be talked about. Their whole household management was
altered, and five hundred thousand francs were squandered in utterly
transforming the old house in the Rue Miromesnil. Then there were
extravagantly magnificent gowns and large sums disappeared, squandered