"It's the nigger!
'Twasn't any good telling him that my lady's gone out, and so he's
settled himself in the bedroom. We only expected him this evening."
At a quarter past four Nana was not in yet. What could she be after?
It was silly of her! Two other bouquets were brought round, and Zoe,
growing bored looked to see if there were any coffee left. Yes, the
ladies would willingly finish off the coffee; it would waken them up.
Sitting hunched up on their chairs, they were beginning to fall asleep
through dint of constantly taking their cards between their fingers with
the accustomed movement. The half-hour sounded. Something must decidedly
have happened to Madame. And they began whispering to each other.
Suddenly Mme Maloir forgot herself and in a ringing voice announced:
"I've the five hundred! Trumps, Major Quint!"
"Oh, do be quiet!" said Zoe angrily. "What will all those gentlemen
think?" And in the silence which ensued and amid the whispered muttering
of the two old women at strife over their game, the sound of rapid
footsteps ascended from the back stairs. It was Nana at last. Before
she had opened the door her breathlessness became audible. She bounced
abruptly in, looking very red in the face.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87