Four Short Stories By Emile Zola

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Émile Zola. Four Short Stories By Emile Zola

NANA. by. Emile Zola

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

THE MILLER’S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER I. THE BETROTHAL

CHAPTER II. THE ATTACK ON THE MILL

CHAPTER III. THE FLIGHT

CHAPTER IV. A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE

CHAPTER V. THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH

CAPTAIN BURLE

CHAPTER I. THE SWINDLE

CHAPTER II. THE CAFE

CHAPTER III. AGAIN?

CHAPTER IV. INSPECTION

THE DEATH OF OLIVIER BECAILLE

CHAPTER I. MY PASSING

CHAPTER II. FUNERAL PREPARATIONS

CHAPTER III. THE PROCESSION

CHAPTER IV. THE NAIL

CHAPTER V. MY RESURRECTION

Отрывок из книги

At nine o’clock in the evening the body of the house at the Theatres des Varietes was still all but empty. A few individuals, it is true, were sitting quietly waiting in the balcony and stalls, but these were lost, as it were, among the ranges of seats whose coverings of cardinal velvet loomed in the subdued light of the dimly burning luster. A shadow enveloped the great red splash of the curtain, and not a sound came from the stage, the unlit footlights, the scattered desks of the orchestra. It was only high overhead in the third gallery, round the domed ceiling where nude females and children flew in heavens which had turned green in the gaslight, that calls and laughter were audible above a continuous hubbub of voices, and heads in women’s and workmen’s caps were ranged, row above row, under the wide-vaulted bays with their gilt-surrounding adornments. Every few seconds an attendant would make her appearance, bustling along with tickets in her hand and piloting in front of her a gentleman and a lady, who took their seats, he in his evening dress, she sitting slim and undulant beside him while her eyes wandered slowly round the house.

Two young men appeared in the stalls; they kept standing and looked about them.

.....

In the passage two young men, delicately curled and formally resplendent in turndown collars and the rest, were disputing together. One of them was repeating the words, “Beastly, beastly!” without stating any reasons; the other was replying with the words, “Stunning, stunning!” as though he, too, disdained all argument.

La Faloise declared her to be quite the thing; only he ventured to opine that she would be better still if she were to cultivate her voice. Steiner, who was no longer listening, seemed to awake with a start. Whatever happens, one must wait, he thought. Perhaps everything will be spoiled in the following acts. The public had shown complaisance, but it was certainly not yet taken by storm. Mignon swore that the piece would never finish, and when Fauchery and La Faloise left them in order to go up to the foyer he took Steiner’s arm and, leaning hard against his shoulder, whispered in his ear:

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