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Four Short Stories By Emile Zola by Émile Zola
page 57 of 734 (07%)
the electric bell sounded. It was a creditor in the shape of the man of
whom she jobbed her carriages. He had settled himself on the bench
in the anteroom, and the fellow was free to twiddle his thumbs till
night--there wasn't the least hurry now.

"Come, buck up!" said Nana, still torpid with laziness and yawning and
stretching afresh. "I ought to be there now!"

Yet she did not budge but kept watching the play of her aunt, who had
just announced four aces. Chin on hand, she grew quite engrossed in it
but gave a violent start on hearing three o'clock strike.

"Good God!" she cried roughly.

Then Mme Maloir, who was counting the tricks she had won with her tens
and aces, said cheeringly to her in her soft voice:

"It would be better, dearie, to give up your expedition at once."

"No, be quick about it," said Mme Lerat, shuffling the cards. "I shall
take the half-past four o'clock train if you're back here with the money
before four o'clock."

"Oh, there'll be no time lost," she murmured.

Ten minutes after Zoe helped her on with a dress and a hat. It didn't
matter much if she were badly turned out. Just as she was about to
go downstairs there was a new ring at the bell. This time it was the
charcoal dealer. Very well, he might keep the livery-stable keeper
company--it would amuse the fellows. Only, as she dreaded a scene, she
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