They didn't care a damn for Madame; the walls were echoing to their laughter, and she felt that she was deserted on all hands and despised by the servants' hall, the inmates of which were watching her every movement and liberally bespattering her with the filthiest of chaff.

Thereupon she abandoned the intention of borrowing the hundred and thirty-three francs from Zoe; she already owed the maid money, and she was too proud to risk a refusal now.

Such a burst of feeling stirred her that she went back into her room, loudly remarking: "Come, come, my girl, don't count on anyone but yourself.

Your body's your own property, and it's better to make use of it than to let yourself be insulted." And without even summoning Zoe she dressed herself with feverish haste in order to run round to the Tricon's.

In hours of great embarrassment this was her last resource.