Nevertheless, despite her luxurious life and her group of courtiers,

Nana was nearly bored to death. She had men for every minute of the

night, and money overflowed even among the brushes and combs in the

drawers of her dressing table. But all this had ceased to satisfy

her; she felt that there was a void somewhere or other, an empty

place provocative of yawns. Her life dragged on, devoid of

occupation, and successive days only brought back the same

monotonous hours. Tomorrow had ceased to be; she lived like a bird: