in the morning, the young man would watch for his departure from Zoes
kitchen and would take his place, which was still quite warm, till ten
o'clock. Then he, too, would go about his business. Nana and he were
wont to think it a very comfortable arrangement.

"So much the worse," said Nana; "I'll write to him this afternoon. And
if he doesn't receive my letter, then tomorrow you will stop him coming
in."

In the meantime Zoe was walking softly about the room. She spoke of
yesterday's great hit. Madame had shown such talent; she sang so well!
Ah! Madame need not fret at all now!

Nana, her elbow dug into her pillow, only tossed her head in reply. Her
nightdress had slipped down on her shoulders, and her hair, unfastened
and entangled, flowed over them in masses.

"Without doubt," she murmured, becoming thoughtful; "but what's to be
done to gain time? I'm going to have all sorts of bothers today. Now
let's see, has the porter come upstairs yet this morning?"

Then both the women talked together seriously. Nana owed three quarters'
rent; the landlord was talking of seizing the furniture. Then, too,
there was a perfect downpour of creditors; there was a livery-stable
man, a needlewoman, a ladies' tailor, a charcoal dealer and others
besides, who came every day and settled themselves on a bench in the
little hall. The charcoal dealer especially was a dreadful fellow--he
shouted on the staircase. But Nana's greatest cause of distress was her
little Louis, a child she had given birth to when she was sixteen
and now left in charge of a nurse in a village in the neighborhood