Muffat’s eyes filled with tears.  He clasped his hands together.

“Oh, let’s go to bed!”

At this Nana suddenly lost all control over herself and was choked by nervous sobs.  She was being taken advantage of when all was said and done!  What had these stories to do with her?  She certainly had used all manner of delicate methods in order to teach him his lesson gently.  And now he was for making her pay the damages!  No, thank you!  She was kindhearted, but not to that extent.

“The devil, but I’ve had enough of this!” she swore, bringing her fist down on the furniture.  “Yes, yes, I wanted to be faithful—­it was all I could do to be that!  Yet if I spoke the word I could be rich tomorrow, my dear fellow!”

He looked up in surprise.  Never once had he thought of the monetary question.  If she only expressed a desire he would realize it at once; his whole fortune was at her service.

“No, it’s too late now,” she replied furiously.  “I like men who give without being asked.  No, if you were to offer me a million for a single interview I should say no!  It’s over between us; I’ve got other fish to fry there!  So be off or I shan’t answer for the consequences.  I shall do something dreadful!”

She advanced threateningly toward him, and while she was raving, as became a good courtesan who, though driven to desperation, was yet firmly convinced of her rights and her superiority over tiresome, honest folks, the door opened suddenly and Steiner presented himself.  That proved the finishing touch.  She shrieked aloud: 

“Well, I never.  Here’s the other one!”

Bewildered by her piercing outcry, Steiner stopped short.  Muffat’s unexpected presence annoyed him, for he feared an explanation and had been doing his best to avoid it these three months past.  With blinking eyes he stood first on one leg, then on the other, looking embarrassed the while and avoiding the count’s gaze.  He was out of breath, and as became a man who had rushed across Paris with good news, only to find himself involved in unforeseen trouble, his face was flushed and distorted.

“Que veux-tu, toi?” asked Nana roughly, using the second person singular in open mockery of the count.

“What—­what do I—­” he stammered.  “I’ve got it for you—­you know what.”

“Eh?”

He hesitated.  The day before yesterday she had given him to understand that if he could not find her a thousand francs to pay a bill with she would not receive him any more.  For two days he had been loafing about the town in quest of the money and had at last made the sum up that very morning.

“The thousand francs!” he ended by declaring as he drew an envelope from his pocket.

Nana had not remembered.

“The thousand francs!” she cried.  “D’you think I’m begging alms?  Now look here, that’s what I value your thousand francs at!”

And snatching the envelope, she threw it full in his face.  As became a prudent Hebrew, he picked it up slowly and painfully and then looked at the young woman with a dull expression of face.  Muffat and he exchanged a despairing glance, while she put her arms akimbo in order to shout more loudly than before.