First she had
Foucarmont, who did not last a fortnight. He was thinking of leaving
the navy, having saved about thirty thousand francs in his ten years of
service, which he wished to invest in the United States. His instincts,
which were prudential, even miserly, were conquered; he gave her
everything, even his signature to notes of hand, which pledged his
future. When Nana had done with him he was penniless. But then she
proved very kind; she advised him to return to his ship. What was the
good of getting angry? Since he had no money their relations were no
longer possible. He ought to understand that and to be reasonable. A
ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to rot on the ground
by himself.
Then Nana took up with Steiner without disgust but without love. She
called him a dirty Jew; she seemed to be paying back an old grudge, of
which she had no distinct recollection. He was fat; he was stupid, and
she got him down and took two bites at a time in order the quicker to
do for this Prussian. As for him, he had thrown Simonne over. His
Bosphorous scheme was getting shaky, and Nana hastened the downfall by
wild expenses. For a month he struggled on, doing miracles of finance.
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