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What a pity it was they cost such a lot and that you could only get ten sous for them! Oh dear, yes, plenty of money was wasted! "For my part," said Mme Maloir, "I should be quite content if every day of my life I got what the men in Paris had spent on flowers for the women." "Now, you know, you're not hard to please," murmured Mme Lerat. "Why, one would have only just enough to buy thread with.
But they did not even address themselves to Mme Maloir who, never having more than a six-sou omnibus fair upon her, was listening in quite a disinterested manner. At length Zoe went out of the room, remarking that she would go and look in her box, and she brought back a hundred francs in hundred-sou pieces.
Mme Maloir had a mania for doing up all her hats afresh; she alone knew what really became her, and with a few stitches she could manufacture a toque out of the most elegant headgear. Nana, who had bought her this very hat in order not to be ashamed of her when in her company out of doors, was very near being vexed. "Push it up, at any rate," she cried.
Four queens, my dear." It was ten minutes to four. Zoe was astonished, could not understand why her mistress was out so long. Ordinarily when Madame found herself obliged to go out in the afternoons she got it over in double-quick time. But Mme Maloir declared that one didn't always manage things as one wished. Truly, life was beset with obstacles, averred Mme Lerat. The best course was to wait.
After this Nana would proceed to her dressing room, where she took a bath. Toward eleven o'clock Francois would come and do up her hair before beginning the elaborate manipulations of the afternoon. At breakfast, as she hated feeding alone, she nearly always had Mme Maloir at table with her.
But as Mme Maloir was herself going to take the cards out of a drawer in the sideboard, Nana remarked that before she sat down to her game it would be very nice of her if she would write her a letter. It bored Nana to write letters; besides, she was not sure of her spelling, while her old friend could turn out the most feeling epistles. She ran to fetch some good note paper in her bedroom.
At that very moment Mme Maloir entered, wearing one of those hats of which she alone understood the shape. It was delightful meeting again. Mme Maloir explained that magnificence frightened her and that NOW, from time to time, she would come back for her game of bezique.
Her first thought was for Daguenet. Poor duck, why, she had just written to tell him to wait till Thursday! Quick, quick, Mme Maloir should write a second letter! But Zoe announced that Mme Maloir had slipped away unnoticed, according to her wont. Whereupon Nana, after talking of sending someone to him, began to hesitate. She was very tired. A long night's sleep oh, it would be so jolly!
Now and again she scrutinized her old friend's hat out of the corners of her eyes. "It's the new hat I gave you?" she ended by saying. "Yes, I made it up," murmured Mme Maloir, her mouth full of meat. The hat was smart to distraction. In front it was greatly exaggerated, and it was adorned with a lofty feather.
She was in a melting mood and kept whispering to him all sorts of mysterious things about gentlemen of the first fashion who were still running after Nana. Twice he had to push away her knee, for she was positively invading him in her gushing, tearful mood. Prulliere behaved with great incivility toward Mme Maloir and did not once help her to anything.
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