There was scarcely any bleeding--only a little blood, a tiny stain which was oozing down into his waistcoat.

She was making up her mind to step over the body when an apparition sent her starting back.

An old lady was advancing through the drawing-room door, which remained wide open opposite.

And in her terror she recognized Mme Hugon but could not explain her presence.

Still wearing her gloves and hat, Nana kept edging backward, and her terror grew so great that she sought to defend herself, and in a shaky voice: "Madame," she cried, "it isn't I; I swear to you it isn't.