In the meantime Nana, who averred that she was as hungry as a wolf, threw herself on the radishes and gobbled them up without bread.

Mme Lerat had become ceremonious; she refused the radishes as provocative of phlegm.
By and by when Zoe had brought in the cutlets Nana just chipped the meat and contented herself with sucking the bones.

Now and again she scrutinized her old friend's hat out of the corners of her eyes.
"It's the new hat I gave you ?" she ended by saying.
"Yes, I made it up," murmured Mme Maloir, her mouth full of meat.
The hat was smart to distraction.

In front it was greatly exaggerated, and it was adorned with a lofty feather.

Mme Maloir had a mania for doing up all her hats afresh; she alone knew what really became her, and with a few stitches she could manufacture a toque out of the most elegant headgear.