Zoe spoke of these ladies as one who had had the making of their fortunes.

It was very certain that without her more than one would have had some queer tales to tell.

Thus one day, when Mme Blanche was with M.
Octave, in came the old gentleman.

What did Zoe do?
She made believe to tumble as she crossed the drawing room; the old boy rushed up to her assistance, flew to the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water, and M.
Octave slipped away.
"Oh, she's a good girl, you bet!" said Nana, who was listening to her with tender interest and a sort of submissive admiration.
"Now I've had my troubles," began Mme Lerat.

And edging up to Mme Maloir, she imparted to her certain confidential confessions.