Dessert took a long time. Zoe did not remove the cloth before serving
the coffee. Indeed, the ladies simply pushed back their plates before
taking it. They talked continually of yesterday's charming evening. Nana
kept rolling cigarettes, which she smoked, swinging up and down on her
backward-tilted chair. And as Zoe had remained behind and was lounging
idly against the sideboard, it came about that the company were favored
with her history. She said she was the daughter of a midwife at Bercy
who had failed in business. First of all she had taken service with a
dentist and after that with an insurance agent, but neither place suited
her, and she thereupon enumerated, not without a certain amount of
pride, the names of the ladies with whom she had served as lady's
maid. Zoe spoke of these ladies as one who had had the making of their
fortunes. It was very certain that without her more than one would have
had some queer tales to tell. Thus one day, when Mme Blanche was with M.
Octave, in came the old gentleman. What did Zoe do? She made believe
to tumble as she crossed the drawing room; the old boy rushed up to her
assistance, flew to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water, and M.
Octave slipped away.

"Oh, she's a good girl, you bet!" said Nana, who was listening to her
with tender interest and a sort of submissive admiration.

"Now I've had my troubles," began Mme Lerat. And edging up to Mme
Maloir, she imparted to her certain confidential confessions. Both
ladies took lumps of sugar dipped in cognac and sucked them. But
Mme Maloir was wont to listen to other people's secrets without even
confessing anything concerning herself. People said that she lived on a
mysterious allowance in a room whither no one ever penetrated.