“I am going there.  I can’t resist any longer.”

“Very well,” said the old man, “I go with you.”

As they left the house two shadows were vanishing into the dark depths of a garden walk, for every evening now Fauchery and the Countess Sabine left Daguenet to help Estelle make tea.  Once on the highroad the count walked so rapidly that his companion had to run in order to follow him.  Though utterly out of breath, the latter never ceased showering on him the most conclusive arguments against the temptations of the flesh.  But the other never opened his mouth as he hurried away into the night.  Arrived in front of La Mignotte, he said simply: 

“I can’t resist any longer.  Go!”

“God’s will be done then!” muttered M. Venot.  “He uses every method to assure His final triumph.  Your sin will become His weapon.”

At La Mignotte there was much wrangling during the evening meal.  Nana had found a letter from Bordenave awaiting her, in which he advised rest, just as though he were anxious to be rid of her.  Little Violaine, he said, was being encored twice nightly.  But when Mignon continued urging her to come away with them on the morrow Nana grew exasperated and declared that she did not intend taking advice from anybody.  In other ways, too, her behavior at table was ridiculously stuck up.  Mme Lerat having made some sharp little speech or other, she loudly announced that, God willing, she wasn’t going to let anyone—­no, not even her own aunt—­make improper remarks in her presence.  After which she dreed her guests with honorable sentiments.  She seemed to be suffering from a fit of stupid right-mindedness, and she treated them all to projects of religious education for Louiset and to a complete scheme of regeneration for herself.  When the company began laughing she gave vent to profound opinions, nodding her head like a grocer’s wife who knows what she is saying.  Nothing but order could lead to fortune!  And so far as she was concerned, she had no wish to die like a beggar!  She set the ladies’ teeth on edge.  They burst out in protest.  Could anyone have been converting Nana?  No, it was impossible!  But she sat quite still and with absent looks once more plunged into dreamland, where the vision of an extremely wealthy and greatly courted Nana rose up before her.

The household were going upstairs to bed when Muffat put in an appearance.  It was Labordette who caught sight of him in the garden.  He understood it all at once and did him a service, for he got Steiner out of the way and, taking his hand, led him along the dark corridor as far as Nana’s bedroom.  In affairs of this kind Labordette was wont to display the most perfect tact and cleverness.  Indeed, he seemed delighted to be making other people happy.  Nana showed no surprise; she was only somewhat annoyed by the excessive heat of Muffat’s pursuit.  Life was a serious affair, was it not?  Love was too silly:  it led to nothing.  Besides, she had her scruples in view of Zizi’s tender age.  Indeed, she had scarcely behaved quite fairly toward him.  Dear me, yes, she was choosing the proper course again in taking up with an old fellow.