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"Nanon, my good Nanon, make a little cream for my cousin's breakfast.""Why, mademoiselle, you should have thought of that yesterday," saidNanon, bursting into a loud peal of laughter. "I can't make cream.Your cousin is a darling, a darling! oh, that he is! You should haveseen him in his dressing-gown, all silk and gold! I saw him, I did! Hewears linen as fine as the surplice of monsieur le cure.""Nanon, please make us a /galette/."

"And who'll give me wood for the oven, and flour and butter for thecakes?" said Nanon, who in her function of prime-minister to Grandetassumed at times enormous importance in the eyes of Eugenie and hermother. "Mustn't rob the master to feast the cousin. You ask him forbutter and flour and wood: he's your father, perhaps he'll give yousome. See! there he is now, coming to give out the provisions."Eugenie escaped into the garden, quite frightened as she heard thestaircase shaking under her father's step. Already she felt theeffects of that virgin modesty and that special consciousness ofhappiness which lead us to fancy, not perhaps without reason, that ourthoughts are graven on our foreheads and are open to the eyes of all.Perceiving for the first time the cold nakedness of her father'shouse, the poor girl felt a sort of rage that she could not put it inharmony with her cousin's elegance. She felt the need of doingsomething for him,,what, she did not know. Ingenuous and truthful,she followed her angelic nature without mistrusting her impressions orher feelings. The mere sight of her cousin had wakened within her thenatural yearnings of a woman,,yearnings that were the more likely todevelop ardently because, having reached her twenty-third year, shewas in the plenitude of her intelligence and her desires. For thefirst time in her life her heart was full of terror at the sight ofher father; in him she saw the master of the fate, and she fanciedherself guilty of wrong-doing in hiding from his knowledge certainthoughts. She walked with hasty steps, surprised to breathe a purerair, to feel the sun's rays quickening her pulses, to absorb fromtheir heat a moral warmth and a new life. As she turned over in hermind some stratagem by which to get the cake, a quarrel,an event asrare as the sight of swallows in winter,broke out between la GrandeNanon and Grandet. Armed with his keys, the master had come to doleout provisions for the day's consumption. products for human hair wigs

"Is there any bread left from yesterday?" he said to Nanon."Not a crumb, monsieur."

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