And groping with one hand, she pressed the knob of an electric bell by her bed's head.
"He's gone then ?" she asked the maid who presented herself.
"Yes, madame, Monsieur Paul went away not ten minutes back.

As Madame was tired, he did not wish to wake her.

But he ordered me to tell Madame that he would come tomorrow." As she spoke Zoe, the lady's maid, opened the outer shutter.

A flood of daylight entered.

Zoe, a dark brunette with hair in little plaits, had a long canine face, at once livid and full of seams, a snub nose, thick lips and two black eyes in continual movement.
"Tomorrow, tomorrow," repeated Nana, who was not yet wide awake, "is tomorrow the day ?" "Yes, madame, Monsieur Paul has always come on the Wednesday." "No, now I remember," said the young woman, sitting up.