She spoke in violent terms of the dirty lot waiting at the porter's lodge down below.

Besides, she was in a hurry to go downstairs again; they were making her miss her last scene.

Then as Fauchery blocked up the doorway, she gave Muffat a couple of kisses on the whiskers, remarking as she did so: "It's not for you, at any rate! It's for that nuisance Fauchery!" And with that she darted off, and the count remained much embarrassed in his father-in-law's presence.

The blood had rushed to his face.

In Nana's dressing room, amid all the luxury of hangings and mirrors, he had not experienced the sharp physical sensation which the shameful wretchedness of that sorry garret excited within him, redolent as it was of these two girls' self-abandonment.