What at present most exasperated Nana was the thought of paying
for Satin's dinner. There was a wench for you, who allowed herself to
be amused and then made off with never a thank-you in company with the
first petticoat that came by! Without doubt it was only a matter of
three francs, but she felt it was hard lines all the same--her way of
doing it was too disgusting. Nevertheless, she paid up, throwing the six
francs at Laure, whom at the moment she despised more than the mud in
the street. In the Rue des Martyrs Nana felt her bitterness increasing.
She was certainly not going to run after Satin! It was a nice filthy
business for one to be poking one's nose into! But her evening was
spoiled, and she walked slowly up again toward Montmartre, raging
against Mme Robert in particular. Gracious goodness, that woman had a
fine cheek to go playing the lady--yes, the lady in the dustbin! She now
felt sure she had met her at the Papillon, a wretched public-house ball
in the Rue des Poissonniers, where men conquered her scruples for thirty
sous. And to think a thing like that got hold of important functionaries
with her modest looks! And to think she refused suppers to which one
did her the honor of inviting her because, forsooth, she was playing the
virtuous game! Oh yes, she'd get virtued! It was always those conceited
prudes who went the most fearful lengths in low corners nobody knew
anything about.
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