At times, however, Count Muffat was still singularly revolted.  He who had tolerated Satin for months, who had at last shut his eyes to the unknown herd of men that scampered so quickly through Nana’s bedroom, became terribly enraged at being deceived by one of his own set or even by an acquaintance.  When she confessed her relations with Foucarmont he suffered so acutely, he thought the treachery of the young man so base, that he wished to insult him and fight a duel.  As he did not know where to find seconds for such an affair, he went to Labordette.  The latter, astonished, could not help laughing.

“A duel about Nana?  But, my dear sir, all Paris would be laughing at you.  Men do not fight for Nana; it would be ridiculous.”

The count grew very pale and made a violent gesture.

“Then I shall slap his face in the open street.”

For an hour Labordette had to argue with him.  A blow would make the affair odious; that evening everyone would know the real reason of the meeting; it would be in all the papers.  And Labordette always finished with the same expression: 

“It is impossible; it would be ridiculous.”

Each time Muffat heard these words they seemed sharp and keen as a stab.  He could not even fight for the woman he loved; people would have burst out laughing.  Never before had he felt more bitterly the misery of his love, the contrast between his heavy heart and the absurdity of this life of pleasure in which it was now lost.  This was his last rebellion; he allowed Labordette to convince him, and he was present afterward at the procession of his friends, who lived there as if at home.

Nana in a few months finished them up greedily, one after the other.  The growing needs entailed by her luxurious way of life only added fuel to her desires, and she finished a man up at one mouthful.  First she had Foucarmont, who did not last a fortnight.  He was thinking of leaving the navy, having saved about thirty thousand francs in his ten years of service, which he wished to invest in the United States.  His instincts, which were prudential, even miserly, were conquered; he gave her everything, even his signature to notes of hand, which pledged his future.  When Nana had done with him he was penniless.  But then she proved very kind; she advised him to return to his ship.  What was the good of getting angry?  Since he had no money their relations were no longer possible.  He ought to understand that and to be reasonable.  A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to rot on the ground by himself.