Soon, when everything was in
fragments, she laughed cheerily again and with flushed cheeks beat on
the table with the flat of her hands, lisping like a naughty little
girl:
"All over! Got no more! Got no more!"
Then Philippe was overcome by the same mad excitement, and, pushing
her down, he merrily kissed her bosom. She abandoned herself to him
and clung to his shoulders with such gleeful energy that she could not
remember having enjoyed herself so much for an age past. Without letting
go of him she said caressingly:
"I say, dearie, you ought certainly to bring me ten louis tomorrow. It's
a bore, but there's the baker's bill worrying me awfully."
He had grown pale. Then imprinting a final kiss on her forehead, he said
simply:
"I'll try."
Silence reigned. She was dressing, and he stood pressing his forehead
against the windowpanes. A minute passed, and he returned to her and
deliberately continued:
"Nana, you ought to marry me."
This notion straightway so tickled the young woman that she was unable
to finish tying on her petticoats.
"My poor pet, you're ill! D'you offer me your hand because I ask you for
ten louis? No, never! I'm too fond of you. Good gracious, what a silly
question!"
And as Zoe entered in order to put her boots on, they ceased talking of
the matter.
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