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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"

Well, well! He would have to continue dangling,
and if he didn't like that he could go! She would sooner have thrown up
everything than have played false to Georges.
The count had seated himself with all the ceremonious politeness
becoming a country caller. Only his hands were trembling slightly. Lust,
which Nana's skillful tactics daily exasperated, had at last wrought
terrible havoc in that sanguine, uncontaminated nature. The grave
man, the chamberlain who was wont to tread the state apartments at the
Tuileries with slow and dignified step, was now nightly driven to plunge
his teeth into his bolster, while with sobs of exasperation he pictured
to himself a sensual shape which never changed. But this time he was
determined to make an end of the torture. Coming along the highroad
in the deep quiet of the gloaming, he had meditated a fierce course of
action. And the moment he had finished his opening remarks he tried to
take hold of Nana with both hands.
"No, no! Take care!" she said simply. She was not vexed; nay, she even
smiled.
He caught her again, clenching his teeth as he did so. Then as she
struggled to get free he coarsely and crudely reminded her that he had
come to stay the night.


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