They became inseparable.  Yet Satin never went to Nana’s, Fontan having announced that he would have no trollops in his house.  They used to go out together, and thus it was that Satin one day took her friend to see another woman.  This woman turned out to be that very Mme Robert who had interested Nana and inspired her with a certain respect ever since she had refused to come to her supper.  Mme Robert lived in the Rue Mosnier, a silent, new street in the Quartier de l’Europe, where there were no shops, and the handsome houses with their small, limited flats were peopled by ladies.  It was five o’clock, and along the silent pavements in the quiet, aristocratic shelter of the tall white houses were drawn up the broughams of stock-exchange people and merchants, while men walked hastily about, looking up at the windows, where women in dressing jackets seemed to be awaiting them.  At first Nana refused to go up, remarking with some constraint that she had not the pleasure of the lady’s acquaintance.  But Satin would take no refusal.  She was only desirous of paying a civil call, for Mme Robert, whom she had met in a restaurant the day before, had made herself extremely agreeable and had got her to promise to come and see her.  And at last Nana consented.  At the top of the stairs a little drowsy maid informed them that Madame had not come home yet, but she ushered them into the drawing room notwithstanding and left them there.

“The deuce, it’s a smart show!” whispered Satin.  It was a stiff, middle-class room, hung with dark-colored fabrics, and suggested the conventional taste of a Parisian shopkeeper who has retired on his fortune.  Nana was struck and did her best to make merry about it.  But Satin showed annoyance and spoke up for Mme Robert’s strict adherence to the proprieties.  She was always to be met in the society of elderly, grave-looking men, on whose arms she leaned.  At present she had a retired chocolate seller in tow, a serious soul.  Whenever he came to see her he was so charmed by the solid, handsome way in which the house was arranged that he had himself announced and addressed its mistress as “dear child.”

“Look, here she is!” continued Satin, pointing to a photograph which stood in front of the clock.  Nana scrutinized the portrait for a second or so.  It represented a very dark brunette with a longish face and lips pursed up in a discreet smile.  “A thoroughly fashionable lady,” one might have said of the likeness, “but one who is rather more reserved than the rest.”

“It’s strange,” murmured Nana at length, “but I’ve certainly seen that face somewhere.  Where, I don’t remember.  But it can’t have been in a pretty place—­oh no, I’m sure it wasn’t in a pretty place.”

And turning toward her friend, she added, “So she’s made you promise to come and see her?  What does she want with you?”

“What does she want with me?  ’Gad!  To talk, I expect—­to be with me a bit.  It’s her politeness.”