Julien himself disappeared, and the tale ran that the master had given him a big bribe and had begged him to go, because he slept with the mistress.

Every week there were new faces in the servants' hall.

Never was there such a mess; the house was like a passage down which the scum of the registry offices galloped, destroying everything in their path.

Zoe alone kept her place; she always looked clean, and her only anxiety was how to organize this riot until she had got enough together to set up on her own account in fulfillment of a plan she had been hatching for some time past.
These, again, were only the anxieties he could own to.

The count put up with the stupidity of Mme Maloir, playing bezique with her in spite of her musty smell.