“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said Nana, drawing aside the curtain, “but you took me by surprise.”

They all turned round.  She had not clothed herself at all, had, in fact, only buttoned on a little pair of linen stays which half revealed her bosom.  When the gentlemen had put her to flight she had scarcely begun undressing and was rapidly taking off her fishwife’s costume.  Through the opening in her drawers behind a corner of her shift was even now visible.  There she stood, bare-armed, bare-shouldered, bare-breasted, in all the adorable glory of her youth and plump, fair beauty, but she still held the curtain with one hand, as though ready to draw it to again upon the slightest provocation.

“Yes, you took me by surprise!  I never shall dare—­” she stammered in pretty, mock confusion, while rosy blushes crossed her neck and shoulders and smiles of embarrassment played about her lips.

“Oh, don’t apologize,” cried Bordenave, “since these gentlemen approve of your good looks!”

But she still tried the hesitating, innocent, girlish game, and, shivering as though someone were tickling her, she continued: 

“His Highness does me too great an honor.  I beg His Highness will excuse my receiving him thus—­”

“It is I who am importunate,” said the prince, “but, madame, I could not resist the desire of complimenting you.”

Thereupon, in order to reach her dressing table, she walked very quietly and just as she was through the midst of the gentlemen, who made way for her to pass.

She had strongly marked hips, which filled her drawers out roundly, while with swelling bosom she still continued bowing and smiling her delicate little smile.  Suddenly she seemed to recognize Count Muffat, and she extended her hand to him as an old friend.  Then she scolded him for not having come to her supper party.  His Highness deigned to chaff Muffat about this, and the latter stammered and thrilled again at the thought that for one second he had held in his own feverish clasp a little fresh and perfumed hand.  The count had dined excellently at the prince’s, who, indeed, was a heroic eater and drinker.  Both of them were even a little intoxicated, but they behaved very creditably.  To hide the commotion within him Muffat could only remark about the heat.

“Good heavens, how hot it is here!” he said.  “How do you manage to live in such a temperature, madame?”

And conversation was about to ensue on this topic when noisy voices were heard at the dressing-room door.  Bordenave drew back the slide over a grated peephole of the kind used in convents.  Fontan was outside with Prulliere and Bosc, and all three had bottles under their arms and their hands full of glasses.  He began knocking and shouting out that it was his patron saint’s day and that he was standing champagne round.  Nana consulted the prince with a glance.  Eh!  Oh dear, yes!  His Highness did not want to be in anyone’s way; he would be only too happy!  But without waiting for permission Fontan came in, repeating in baby accents: