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
Maxime answered her in a similar strain, and the two young people were
soon again laughing as loud as during dinner. Seated on a very low
chair at her feet, he ended by taking hold of her hands and by playing
with her, just the same as with a comrade. And in truth, with her
high-made dress of soft white silk studded with red spots, her flat
chest, and her ugly and cunning little urchin's head, she resembled a
boy disguised as a girl. But at times her puny arms, her crooked form,
assumed negligent postures, and gleams of passion would appear in the
depths of her eyes still full of childishness, without her blushing the
least in the world at Maxime's playfulness. And they both laughed away,
just as though they were by themselves, without even noticing Renée,
who was standing half hidden in the centre of the conservatory watching
them from a distance.
A moment ago, as she was crossing a path, the sight of Maxime and
Louise had suddenly brought the young woman to a standstill behind a
shrub. All about her, the warm conservatory, similar to the nave of a
church, and the glass arched roof of which was supported on slender
iron columns, displayed its fertile vegetation, its masses of gigantic
leaves, its clumps of luxuriant verdure.
In the centre, in an oval tank on a level with the ground, lived,
in the mysterious manner of water plants, all the aquatic flora of
the land of the sun. A border of Cyclantheæ raising their tall green
plumes, surrounded with a monumental belt the fountain which resembled
the truncated capital of some Cyclopean column. Then, at either end,
two enormous Tornelias reared their strange-looking bushes above the
water, their dry, bare stems twisted like agonizing serpents, and
emitting aerial roots which had an appearance of fishermen's nets hung
up to dry. Close to the edge, a Pandanus from Java expanded its sheaf
of greenish leaves streaked with white, as thin as swords, prickly and
serrated like Malay daggers. And floating amid the warmth of the gently
heated sheet of slumbering water, some Nymphæa opened their rosy stars,
whilst some Euryale trailed their round and leprous-looking leaves
over the surface, appearing like the backs of so many monstrous toads
covered with pustules.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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