It was very hot; the servant was carrying away piles of dirty plates with a strong scent of boiled fowl and rice, while the four gentlemen had ended by regaling quite half a dozen couples with capital wine in the hope of making them tipsy and hearing some pretty stiffish things.

What at present most exasperated Nana was the thought of paying for Satin's dinner.

There was a wench for you, who allowed herself to be amused and then made off with never a thank-you in company with the first petticoat that came by! Without doubt it was only a matter of three francs, but she felt it was hard lines all the same--her way of doing it was too disgusting.

Nevertheless, she paid up, throwing the six francs at Laure, whom at the moment she despised more than the mud in the street.

In the Rue des Martyrs Nana felt her bitterness increasing.
She was certainly not going to run after Satin! It was a nice filthy business for one to be poking one's nose into! But her evening was spoiled, and she walked slowly up again toward Montmartre, raging against Mme Robert in particular.