day, while in the slumber into which she once more sank last night's
long, feverish dream of endlessly rolling applause returned like a
sustained accompaniment to music and gently soothed her lassitude.

At eleven o'clock, when Zoe showed Mme Lerat into the room, Nana was
still asleep. But she woke at the noise and cried out at once:

"It's you. You'll go to Rambouillet today?"

"That's what I've come for," said the aunt. "There's a train at twenty
past twelve. I've got time to catch it."

"No, I shall only have the money by and by," replied the young woman,
stretching herself and throwing out her bosom. "You'll have lunch, and
then we'll see."

Zoe brought a dressing jacket.

"The hairdresser's here, madame," she murmured.

But Nana did not wish to go into the dressing room. And she herself
cried out:

"Come in, Francis."

A well-dressed man pushed open the door and bowed. Just at that moment
Nana was getting out of bed, her bare legs in full view. But she did not
hurry and stretched her hands out so as to let Zoe draw on the sleeves
of the dressing jacket. Francis, on his part, was quite at his ease and
without turning away waited with a sober expression on his face.