"Chuck 'em all out! I--I'm going to play a game of bezique with Madame
Maloir. I prefer doing that."

The bell interrupted her remarks. That was the last straw. Another of
the beggars yet! She forbade Zoe to go and open the door, but the latter
had left the kitchen without listening to her, and when she reappeared
she brought back a couple of cards and said authoritatively:

"I told them that Madame was receiving visitors. The gentlemen are in
the drawing room."

Nana had sprung up, raging, but the names of the Marquis de Chouard and
of Count Muffat de Beuville, which were inscribed on the cards, calmed
her down. For a moment or two she remained silent.

"Who are they?" she asked at last. "You know them?"

"I know the old fellow," replied Zoe, discreetly pursing up her lips.

And her mistress continuing to question her with her eyes, she added
simply:

"I've seen him somewhere."

This remark seemed to decide the young woman. Regretfully she left the
kitchen, that asylum of steaming warmth, where you could talk and take
your ease amid the pleasant fumes of the coffeepot which was being kept
warm over a handful of glowing embers. She left Mme Maloir behind her.
That lady was now busy reading her fortune by the cards; she had never
yet taken her hat off, but now in order to be more at her ease she undid