At a quarter past four Nana was not in yet. What could she be after? It was silly of her! Two other bouquets were brought round, and Zoé, growing bored looked to see if there were any coffee left. Yes, the ladies would willingly finish off the coffee; it would waken them up. Sitting hunched up on their chairs, they were beginning to fall asleep through dint of constantly taking their cards between their fingers with the accustomed movement. The half-hour sounded. Something must decidedly have happened to Madame. And they began whispering to each other. Suddenly Mme Maloir forgot herself and in a ringing voice announced: “I’ve the five hundred! Trumps, Major Quint!” “Oh, do be quiet!” said Zoé angrily. “What will all those gentlemen think?” And in the silence which ensued and amid the whispered muttering of the two old women at strife over their game, the sound of rapid footsteps ascended from the back stairs. It was Nana at last. Before she had opened the door her breathlessness became audible. She bounced abruptly in, looking very red in the face. Her skirt, the string of which must have been broken, was trailing over the stairs, and her flounces had just been dipped in a puddle of something unpleasant which had oozed out on the landing of the first floor, where the servant girl was a regular slut. “Here you are! It’s lucky!” said Mme Lerat, pursing up her lips, for she was still vexed at Mme Maloir’s “five hundred.” “You may flatter yourself at the way you keep folks waiting.” “Madame isn’t reasonable; indeed, she isn’t!” added Zoé. Nana was already harassed, and these reproaches exasperated her. Was that the way people received her after the worry she had gone through? “Will you blooming well leave me alone, eh?” she cried. “Hush, ma’am, there are people in there,” said the maid. Then in lower tones the young Woman stuttered breathlessly: “D’you suppose I’ve been having a good time? Why, there was no end to it. I should have liked to see you there! I was boiling with rage! I felt inclined to smack somebody. And never a cab to come home in! Luckily it’s only a step from here, but never mind that; I did just run home.” “You have the money?” asked the aunt. “Dear, dear! That question!” rejoined Nana. She had sat herself down on a chair close up against the stove, for her legs had failed her after so much running, and without stopping to take breath she drew from behind her stays an envelope in which there were four hundred-franc notes. They were visible through a large rent she had torn with savage fingers in order to be sure of the contents. The three women round about her stared fixedly at the envelope, a big, crumpled, dirty receptacle, as it lay clasped in her small gloved hands. It was too late now—Mme Lerat would not go to Rambouillet till tomorrow, and Nana entered into long explanations. “There’s company waiting for you,” the lady’s maid repeated.