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Four Short Stories By Emile Zola by Émile Zola
page 52 of 734 (07%)

"There now!" rejoined the aunt. "They declared that you had him by a
stonemason who was in the habit of beating you. Indeed, you shall tell
me all about it someday; you know I'm discreet! Tut, tut, I'll look
after him as though he were a prince's son."

She had retired from business as a florist and was living on her
savings, which she had got together sou by sou, till now they brought
her in an income of six hundred francs a year. Nana promised to rent
some pretty little lodgings for her and to give her a hundred francs a
month besides. At the mention of this sum the aunt forgot herself and
shrieked to her niece, bidding her squeeze their throats, since she had
them in her grasp. She was meaning the men, of course. Then they both
embraced again, but in the midst of her rejoicing Nana's face, as she
led the talk back to the subject of Louiset, seemed to be overshadowed
by a sudden recollection.

"Isn't it a bore I've got to go out at three o'clock?" she muttered. "It
IS a nuisance!"

Just then Zoe came in to say that lunch was on the table. They went into
the dining room, where an old lady was already seated at table. She had
not taken her hat off, and she wore a dark dress of an indecisive color
midway between puce and goose dripping. Nana did not seem surprised at
sight of her. She simply asked her why she hadn't come into the bedroom.

"I heard voices," replied the old lady. "I thought you had company."

Mme Maloir, a respectable-looking and mannerly woman, was Nana's old
friend, chaperon and companion. Mme Lerat's presence seemed to fidget
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