But failing the explanations of her hairdresser Francis, who had brought her the paper, she would not have understood that it was she who was in question.

Daguenet scrutinized her slyly, sneering in his chaffing way.

Well, well, since she was pleased, everybody else ought to be.
"By your leave!" shouted a waiter, holding a dish of iced cheese in both hands as he separated them.
Nana had stepped toward the little saloon where Muffat was waiting.
"Well, good-by!" continued Daguenet.

"Go and find your cuckold again." But she halted afresh.
"Why d'you call him cuckold ?" "Because he is a cuckold, by Jove!" She came and leaned against the wall again; she was profoundly interested.
"Ah!" she said simply.
"What, d'you mean to say you didn't know that?
Why, my dear girl, his wife's Fauchery's mistress.

It probably began in the country.