chatted about the marriage from the male point of view. Georges was
vexed with La Faloise for telling an anecdote. Certainly Nana had fubbed
off on Muffat one of her old flames as son-in-law; only it was not
true that she had been to bed with Daguenet as lately as yesterday.
Foucarmont made bold to shrug his shoulders. Could anyone ever tell when
Nana was in bed with anyone? But Georges grew excited and answered with
an "I can tell, sir!" which set them all laughing. In a word, as Steiner
put it, it was all a very funny kettle of fish!

The buffet was gradually invaded by the crowd, and, still keeping
together, they vacated their positions there. La Faloise stared brazenly
at the women as though he believed himself to be Mabille. At the end
of a garden walk the little band was surprised to find M. Venot busily
conferring with Daguenet, and with that they indulged in some facile
pleasantries which made them very merry. He was confessing him, giving
him advice about the bridal night! Presently they returned in front
of one of the drawing-room doors, within which a polka was sending the
couples whirling to and fro till they seemed to leave a wake behind them
among the crowd of men who remained standing about. In the slight puffs
of air which came from outside the tapers flared up brilliantly, and
when a dress floated by in time to the rat-tat of the measure, a little
gust of wind cooled the sparkling heat which streamed down from the
lusters.

"Egad, they're not cold in there!" muttered La Faloise.

They blinked after emerging from the mysterious shadows of the garden.
Then they pointed out to one another the Marquis de Chouard where he
stood apart, his tall figure towering over the bare shoulders which
surrounded him. His face was pale and very stern, and beneath its crown
of scant white hair it wore an expression of lofty dignity. Scandalized
by Count Muffat's conduct, he had publicly broken off all intercourse
with him and was by way of never again setting foot in the house. If he
had consented to put in an appearance that evening it was because his
granddaughter had begged him to. But he disapproved of her marriage
and had inveighed indignantly against the way in which the government
classes were being disorganized by the shameful compromises engendered
by modern debauchery.

"Ah, it's the end of all things," Mme du Joncquoy whispered in Mme
Chantereau's ear as she sat near the fireplace. "That bad woman has
bewit