Zoe, meanwhile, was still dissatisfied with her washing.

She kept looking at the stain, and every time she passed it she repeated: "You know it's not gone yet, madame." As a matter of fact, the pale red stain kept reappearing on one of the white roses in the carpet pattern.

It was as though, on the very threshold of the room, a splash of blood were barring the doorway.
"Bah!" said the joyous Nana.

"That'll be rubbed out under people's feet." After the following day Count Muffat had likewise forgotten the incident.

For a moment or two, when in the cab which drove him to the Rue Richelieu, he had busily sworn never to return to that woman's house.