things a second time discussed, was beginning to ask Daguenet about Nana’s ways in private life, when the conversation veered fatefully back to Count Bismarck.  Tatan Nene bent toward Labordette to ask him privily who this Bismarck might be, for she did not know him.  Whereupon Labordette, in cold blood, told her some portentous anecdotes.  This Bismarck, he said, was in the habit of eating raw meat and when he met a woman near his den would carry her off thither on his back; at forty years of age he had already had as many as thirty-two children that way.

“Thirty-two children at forty!” cried Tatan Nene, stupefied and yet convinced.  “He must be jolly well worn out for his age.”

There was a burst of merriment, and it dawned on her that she was being made game of.

“You sillies!  How am I to know if you’re joking?”

Gaga, meanwhile, had stopped at the exhibition.  Like all these ladies, she was delightedly preparing for the fray.  A good season, provincials and foreigners rushing into Paris!  In the long run, perhaps, after the close of the exhibition she would, if her business had flourished, be able to retire to a little house at Jouvisy, which she had long had her eye on.

“What’s to be done?” she said to La Faloise.  “One never gets what one wants!  Oh, if only one were still really loved!”

Gaga behaved meltingly because she had felt the young man’s knee gently placed against her own.  He was blushing hotly and lisping as elegantly as ever.  She weighed him at a glance.  Not a very heavy little gentleman, to be sure, but then she wasn’t hard to please.  La Faloise obtained her address.

“Just look there,” murmured Vandeuvres to Clarisse.  “I think Gaga’s doing you out of your Hector.”

“A good riddance, so far as I’m concerned,” replied the actress.  “That fellow’s an idiot.  I’ve already chucked him downstairs three times.  You know, I’m disgusted when dirty little boys run after old women.”

She broke off and with a little gesture indicated Blanche, who from the commencement of dinner had remained in a most uncomfortable attitude, sitting up very markedly, with the intention of displaying her shoulders to the old distinguished-looking gentleman three seats beyond her.

“You’re being left too,” she resumed.

Vandeuvres smiled his thin smile and made a little movement to signify he did not care.  Assuredly ’twas not he who would ever have prevented poor, dear Blanche scoring a success.  He was more interested by the spectacle which Steiner was presenting to the table at large.  The banker was noted for his sudden flames.  That terrible German Jew who brewed money, whose hands forged millions, was wont to turn imbecile whenever he became enamored of a woman.  He wanted them all too!  Not one could make her appearance on the stage but he bought her, however expensive she might be.  Vast sums were quoted.  Twice had his furious appetite for courtesans ruined