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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"


"Oh, those drunkards!" she said with a disgusted air. "No, look you
here, their republic would be a great misfortune for everybody! Oh, may
God preserve us the emperor as long as possible!"
"God will hear your prayer, my dear," Muffat replied gravely. "To be
sure, the emperor stands firm."
He liked her to express such excellent views. Both, indeed, understood
one another in political matters. Vandeuvres and Philippe Hugon likewise
indulged in endless jokes against the "cads," the quarrelsome set who
scuttled off the moment they clapped eyes on a bayonet. But Georges that
evening remained pale and somber.
"What can be the matter with that baby?" asked Nana, noticing his
troubled appearance.
"With me? Nothing--I am listening," he muttered.
But he was really suffering. On rising from table he had heard Philippe
joking with the young woman, and now it was Philippe, and not himself,
who sat beside her. His heart, he knew not why, swelled to bursting.
He could not bear to see them so close together; such vile thoughts
oppressed him that shame mingled with his anguish. He who laughed
at Satin, who had accepted Steiner and Muffat and all the rest, felt
outraged and murderous at the thought that Philippe might someday touch
that woman.


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