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?‰mile, 1840-1902

"Four Short Stories By Emile Zola"


Then, too, how was he to forget it all if his brother remained--his
brother, blood of his blood, a second self, whose enjoyment drove him
mad with jealousy? It was the end of all things; he wanted to die.
All the doors remained open, as the servants noisily scattered over the
house after seeing Madame make her exit on foot. Downstairs on the bench
in the hall the baker was laughing with Charles and Francois. Zoe
came running across the drawing room and seemed surprised at sight
of Georges. She asked him if he were waiting for Madame. Yes, he was
waiting for her; he had for-gotten to give her an answer to a question.
And when he was alone he set to work and searched. Finding nothing else
to suit his purpose, he took up in the dressing room a pair of very
sharply pointed scissors with which Nana had a mania for ceaselessly
trimming herself, either by polishing her skin or cutting off little
hairs. Then for a whole hour he waited patiently, his hand in his pocket
and his fingers tightly clasped round the scissors.
"Here's Madame," said Zoe, returning. She must have espied her through
the bedroom window.
There was a sound of people racing through the house, and laughter
died away and doors were shut.


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