The Rush for the Spoil (La Curée): A Realistic NovelZola, Émile
General
The Rush for the Spoil (La Curée): A Realistic Novel
Zola, Émile
Paris (France) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"You know, my ducks, if I'm in the way, I'll leave the room. You can
ring the bell when you are ready for me to come in again."
Then he would take the woman off, or, at times, go with her to join
in the racket in the neighbouring room. Maxime and he shared the
same shoulders; their hands met round the same waists. They called
to one another on the divans, and repeated to each other, aloud, the
confidential statements which the women had whispered in their ears.
And they carried their good fellowship so far as to conspire together
to carry off from the gathering the blonde or brunette which one or the
other of them had chosen.
They were well known at Mabille. They went there arm in arm, after some
dainty dinner, strolled round the garden, nodding to the women, and
tossing them a remark as they passed by. They laughed aloud, without
unlocking their arms, and came to each other's assistance whenever
business was discussed. The father, who was very expert on this point,
negotiated his son's love affairs advantageously. At times they sat
down and drank with a party of girls. Then they changed their table or
resumed their stroll. And they were seen till midnight with their arms
always linked like a couple of chums, following the skirts along the
yellow pathways under the glaring flame of the gas jets.
When they returned home they brought with them, from out-of-doors,
in their coats, a dash of the women they had just left. Their loose
attitudes, and the after-part of certain suggestive remarks and low
gestures, made the flat in the Rue de Rivoli seem like a fast woman's
lodging. The gentle wanton way in which the father gave his hand to his
son, of itself proclaimed whence they came. It was in this atmosphere
that Renée inhaled her sensual caprices and longings. She chaffed them
nervously:
"Where can you have come from?" she would say to them. "You smell of
tobacco and musk. It's certain that I shall have a headache."
And indeed, the strange smell profoundly disturbed her. It was the
regular perfume of this singular domestic hearth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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