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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"

It seemed
wider and larger as it opened on the immense distances of the plain,
where the trees loomed like little shadowy islands amid a shining and
waveless lake. And Nana grew tenderhearted, felt herself a child again.
Most surely she had dreamed of nights like this at an epoch which she
could not recall. Since leaving the train every object of sensation--the
wide countryside, the green things with their pungent scents, the house,
the vegetables--had stirred her to such a degree that now it seemed to
her as if she had left Paris twenty years ago. Yesterday's existence
was far, far away, and she was full of sensations of which she had no
previous experience. Georges, meanwhile, was giving her neck little
coaxing kisses, and this again added to her sweet unrest. With
hesitating hand she pushed him from her, as though he were a child whose
affectionate advances were fatiguing, and once more she told him that
he ought to take his departure. He did not gainsay her. All in good
time--he would go all in good time!
But a bird raised its song and again was silent. It was a robin in an
elder tree below the window.
"Wait one moment," whispered Georges; "the lamp's frightening him. I'll
put it out.


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