"You sit where you like, you know," said Nana. "It's more amusing that
way."
She remained standing midway down the side of the table. The old
gentleman whom nobody knew had placed himself on her right, while she
kept Steiner on her left hand. Some guests were already sitting down
when the sound of oaths came from the little drawing room. It was
Bordenave. The company had forgotten him, and he was having all the
trouble in the world to raise himself out of his two armchairs, for he
was howling amain and calling for that cat of a Simonne, who had slipped
off with the rest. The women ran in to him, full of pity for his woes,
and Bordenave appeared, supported, nay, almost carried, by Caroline,
Clarisse, Tatan Nene and Maria Blond. And there was much to-do over his
installation at the table.
"In the middle, facing Nana!" was the cry. "Bordenave in the middle!
He'll be our president!"
Thereupon the ladies seated him in the middle. But he needed a second
chair for his leg, and two girls lifted it up and stretched it carefully
out. It wouldn't matter; he would eat sideways.
"God blast it all!" he grumbled. "We're squashed all the same! Ah, my
kittens, Papa recommends himself to your tender care!"
He had Rose Mignon on his right and Lucy Stewart on his left hand,
and they promised to take good care of him.
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