Georges listened and looked at these ladies, feeling dizzy and excited
by the coarse recital thus crudely whispered in his ear, while behind
his chair the waiters kept repeating in respectful tones:
"Pullets a la marechale; fillets of sole with ravigote sauce."
"My dear fellow," said Daguenet, giving him the benefit of his
experience, "don't take any fish; it'll do you no good at this time of
night. And be content with Leoville: it's less treacherous."
A heavy warmth floated upward from the candelabras, from the dishes
which were being handed round, from the whole table where thirty-eight
human beings were suffocating. And the waiters forgot themselves and
ran when crossing the carpet, so that it was spotted with grease.
Nevertheless, the supper grew scarce any merrier. The ladies trifled
with their meat, left half of it uneaten. Tatan Nene alone partook
gluttonously of every dish. At that advanced hour of the night hunger
was of the nervous order only, a mere whimsical craving born of an
exasperated stomach.
At Nana's side the old gentleman refused every dish offered him; he
had only taken a spoonful of soup, and he now sat in front of his
empty plate, gazing silently about.
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