e sides, while the other, a subject by
itself, represented Night wrapped in her veil and discovered by a faun
in all her splendid nudity. He added that if she chose this last subject
the goldsmiths intended making Night in her own likeness. This idea, the
taste of which was rather risky, made her grow white with pleasure,
and she pictured herself as a silver statuette, symbolic of the warm,
voluptuous delights of darkness.

"Of course you will only sit for the head and shoulders," said
Labordette.

She looked quietly at him.

"Why? The moment a work of art's in question I don't mind the sculptor
that takes my likeness a blooming bit!"

Of course it must be understood that she was choosing the subject. But
at this he interposed.

"Wait a moment; it's six thousand francs extra."

"It's all the same to me, by Jove!" she cried, bursting into a laugh.
"Hasn't my little rough got the rhino?"

Nowadays among her intimates she always spoke thus of Count Muffat, and
the gentlemen had ceased to inquire after him otherwise.

"Did you see your little rough last night?" they used to say.

"Dear me, I expected to find the little rough here!"

It was a simple familiarity enough, which, nevertheless, she did not as
yet venture on in his presence.

Labordette began rolling up the designs as he gave the final
explanations. The goldsmiths, he said, were undertaking to deliver the
bed in two months' time, toward the twenty-fifth of December, and
next week a sculptor would come to make a model for the Night. As
she accompanied him to the door Nana remembered the baker and briskly
inquired:

"By the by, you wouldn't be having ten louis about you?"

Labordette made it a solemn rule, which stood him in good stead, never
to lend women money. He used always to make the same reply.

"No, my girl, I'm short. But would you like me to go to your little
rough?"

She refused; it was useless. Two days before she had succeeded in
getting five thousand francs out of the count. However, she soon
regretted her discreet conduct, for the moment Labordette had gone the
baker reappeared, though it was barely half-past two, and with many loud
oaths roughly settled himself on a bench in the hall. The young woman
listened to him from the first floor. She was pale, and it caused her
especial pain to hear the servants' secret rejoicings swelling up louder
and louder till they even reached her ears. Down in the kitchen they
were dying of laughter