But he still felt a dull, angry repugnance to the man.
"Well, what then?
Fauchery isn't the devil!" Nana repeated, feeling her way cautiously and trying to find out how matters stood between husband and lover.

"One can get over his soft side.

I promise you, he's a good sort at bottom! So it's a bargain, eh?
You'll tell him that it's for my sake ?" The idea of taking such a step disgusted the count.
"No, no! Never!" he cried.
She paused, and this sentence was on the verge of utterance: "Fauchery can refuse you nothing." But she felt that by way of argument it was rather too much of a good thing.

So she only smiled a queer smile which spoke as plainly as words.

Muffat had raised his eyes to her and now once more lowered them, looking pale and full of embarrassment.
"Ah, you're not good natured," she muttered at last.
"I cannot," he said with a voice and a look of the utmost anguish.