him all the same, he grew as merry as a sandboy, kissed Nana gallantly and waltzed with the chairs.  And she was so charmed by this conduct that she at length got to hope that nothing would be found on the chest of drawers, despite the difficulty she experienced in making both ends meet.  One day she even returned him his three francs, telling him a tale to the effect that she still had yesterday’s money.  As he had given her nothing then, he hesitated for some moments, as though he dreaded a lecture.  But she gazed at him with her loving eyes and hugged him in such utter self-surrender that he pocketed the money again with that little convulsive twitch or the fingers peculiar to a miser when he regains possession of that which has been well-nigh lost.  From that day forth he never troubled himself about money again or inquired whence it came.  But when there were potatoes on the table he looked intoxicated with delight and would laugh and smack his lips before her turkeys and legs of mutton, though of course this did not prevent his dealing Nana sundry sharp smacks, as though to keep his hand in amid all his happiness.

Nana had indeed found means to provide for all needs, and the place on certain days overflowed with good things.  Twice a week, regularly, Bosc had indigestion.  One evening as Mme Lerat was withdrawing from the scene in high dudgeon because she had noticed a copious dinner she was not destined to eat in process of preparation, she could not prevent herself asking brutally who paid for it all.  Nana was taken by surprise; she grew foolish and began crying.

“Ah, that’s a pretty business,” said the aunt, who had divined her meaning.

Nana had resigned herself to it for the sake of enjoying peace in her own home.  Then, too, the Tricon was to blame.  She had come across her in the Rue de Laval one fine day when Fontan had gone out raging about a dish of cod.  She had accordingly consented to the proposals made her by the Tricon, who happened just then to be in difficulty.  As Fontan never came in before six o’clock, she made arrangements for her afternoons and used to bring back forty francs, sixty francs, sometimes more.  She might have made it a matter of ten and fifteen louis had she been able to maintain her former position, but as matters stood she was very glad thus to earn enough to keep the pot boiling.  At night she used to forget all her sorrows when Bosc sat there bursting with dinner and Fontan leaned on his elbows and with an expression of lofty superiority becoming a man who is loved for his own sake allowed her to kiss him on the eyelids.