"Zoe! Zoe! Come at once. Make him leave off. It's getting stupid--a
child like that! He's killing himself now! And in my place too! Did you
ever see the like of it?"
He was frightening her. He was all white, and his eyes were shut. There
was scarcely any bleeding--only a little blood, a tiny stain which was
oozing down into his waistcoat. She was making up her mind to step over
the body when an apparition sent her starting back. An old lady was
advancing through the drawing-room door, which remained wide open
opposite. And in her terror she recognized Mme Hugon but could not
explain her presence. Still wearing her gloves and hat, Nana kept
edging backward, and her terror grew so great that she sought to defend
herself, and in a shaky voice:
"Madame," she cried, "it isn't I; I swear to you it isn't. He wanted to
marry me, and I said no, and he's killed himself!"
Slowly Mme Hugon drew near--she was in black, and her face showed pale
under her white hair. In the carriage, as she drove thither, the thought
of Georges had vanished and that of Philippe's misdoing had again taken
complete possession of her. It might be that this woman could afford
explanations to the judges which would touch them, and so she conceived
the project of begging her to bear witness in her son's favor.
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