Nana, who was crying and gasping, thereupon held her breath.  When he was in bed she choked with emotion and threw herself upon his breast with a wild burst of sobs.  Their scuffles always ended thus, for she trembled at the thought of losing him and, like a coward, wanted always to feel that he belonged entirely to her, despite everything.  Twice he pushed her magnificently away, but the warm embrace of this woman who was begging for mercy with great, tearful eyes, as some faithful brute might do, finally aroused desire.  And he became royally condescending without, however, lowering his dignity before any of her advances.  In fact, he let himself be caressed and taken by force, as became a man whose forgiveness is worth the trouble of winning.  Then he was seized with anxiety, fearing that Nana was playing a part with a view to regaining possession of the treasury key.  The light had been extinguished when he felt it necessary to reaffirm his will and pleasure.

“You must know, my girl, that this is really very serious and that I keep the money.”

Nana, who was falling asleep with her arms round his neck, uttered a sublime sentiment.

“Yes, you need fear nothing!  I’ll work for both of us!”

But from that evening onward their life in common became more and more difficult.  From one week’s end to the other the noise of slaps filled the air and resembled the ticking of a clock by which they regulated their existence.  Through dint of being much beaten Nana became as pliable as fine linen; her skin grew delicate and pink and white and so soft to the touch and clear to the view that she may be said to have grown more good looking than ever.  Prulliere, moreover, began running after her like a madman, coming in when Fontan was away and pushing her into corners in order to snatch an embrace.  But she used to struggle out of his grasp, full of indignation and blushing with shame.  It disgusted her to think of him wanting to deceive a friend.  Prulliere would thereupon begin sneering with a wrathful expression.  Why, she was growing jolly stupid nowadays!  How could she take up with such an ape?  For, indeed, Fontan was a regular ape with that great swingeing nose of his.  Oh, he had an ugly mug!  Besides, the man knocked her about too!

“It’s possible I like him as he is,” she one day made answer in the quiet voice peculiar to a woman who confesses to an abominable taste.

Bosc contented himself by dining with them as often as possible.  He shrugged his shoulders behind Prulliere’s back—­a pretty fellow, to be sure, but a frivolous!  Bosc had on more than one occasion assisted at domestic scenes, and at dessert, when Fontan slapped Nana, he went on chewing solemnly, for the thing struck him as being quite in the course of nature.  In order to give some return for his dinner he used always to go into ecstasies over their happiness.  He declared himself a philosopher who had given up everything, glory included.  At