They took her as required; they accepted the dad, the mamma, the past; in fact, whatever she chose. With their eyes fixed on the tablecloth, the four now sat shrinking and insignificant while Nana, in a transport of omnipotence, trampled on them in the old muddy boots worn long since in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or. She was determined not to lay down the cudgels just yet. It was all very fine to bring her fortunes, to build her palaces; she would never leave off regretting the time when she munched apples! Oh, what bosh that stupid thing money was! It was made for the tradespeople! Finally her outburst ended in a sentimentally expressed desire for a simple, openhearted existence, to be passed in an atmosphere of universal benevolence. When she got to this point she noticed Julien waiting idly by. “Well, what’s the matter? Hand the champagne then!” she said. “Why d’you stand staring at me like a goose?” During this scene the servants had never once smiled. They apparently heard nothing, and the more their mistress let herself down, the more majestic they became. Julien set to work to pour out the champagne and did so without mishap, but Francois, who was handing round the fruit, was so unfortunate as to tilt the fruit dish too low, and the apples, the pears and the grapes rolled on the table. “You bloody clumsy lot!” cried Nana. The footman was mistaken enough to try and explain that the fruit had not been firmly piled up. Zoé had disarranged it by taking out some oranges. “Then it’s Zoé that’s the goose!” said Nana. “Madame—” murmured the lady’s maid in an injured tone. Straightway Madame rose to her feet, and in a sharp voice and with royally authoritative gesture: “We’ve had enough of this, haven’t we? Leave the room, all of you! We don’t want you any longer!” This summary procedure calmed her down, and she was forthwith all sweetness and amiability. The dessert proved charming, and the gentlemen grew quite merry waiting on themselves. But Satin, having peeled a pear, came and ate it behind her darling, leaning on her shoulder the while and whispering sundry little remarks in her ear, at which they both laughed very loudly. By and by she wanted to share her last piece of pear with Nana and presented it to her between her teeth. Whereupon there was a great nibbling of lips, and the pear was finished amid kisses. At this there was a burst of comic protest from the gentlemen, Philippe shouting to them to take it easy and Vandeuvres asking if one ought to leave the room. Georges, meanwhile, had come and put his arm round Satin’s waist and had brought her back to her seat. “How silly of you!” said Nana. “You’re making her blush, the poor, darling duck. Never mind, dear girl, let them chaff. It’s our own little private affair.” And turning to Muffat, who was watching them with his serious expression: “Isn’t it, my friend?” “Yes, certainly,” he murmured with a slow nod of approval.