"Then, too," continued the aunt, "you've only known perfect gentlemen
hitherto. We were talking of that very topic with Zoe at my place
yesterday evening. She can't understand it any more than I can. 'How is
it,' she said, 'that Madame, who used to have that perfect gentleman,
Monsieur le Comte, at her beck and call'--for between you and me, it
seems you drove him silly--'how is it that Madame lets herself be made
into mincemeat by that clown of a fellow?' I remarked at the time that
you might put up with the beatings but that I would never have allowed
him to be lacking in proper respect. In fact, there isn't a word to be
said for him. I wouldn't have his portrait in my room even! And you ruin
yourself for such a bird as that; yes, you ruin yourself, my darling;
you toil and you moil, when there are so many others and such rich men,
too, some of them even connected with the government! Ah well, it's not
I who ought to be telling you this, of course! But all the same, when
next he tries any of his dirty tricks on I should cut him short with a
'Monsieur, what d'you take me for?' You know how to say it in that grand
way of yours! It would downright cripple him."
Thereupon Nana burst into sobs and stammered out:
"Oh, Aunt, I love him!"
The fact of the matter was that Mme Lerat was beginning to feel anxious
at the painful way her niece doled out the sparse, occasional francs
destined to pay for little Louis's board and lodging.
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