ion
of the sick woman. She seemed calm.
They went outside again and seated themselves in a circle in the garden,
in order to complete their digestion.
Suddenly the dog, who was carrying something in his mouth, began to run
around the chairs at full speed. The child was chasing him wildly. Both
disappeared into the house.
Cimme fell asleep, his well-rounded paunch bathed in the glow of the
shining sun.
The dying woman once more began to talk in a loud voice. Then suddenly
she shrieked.
The two women and Colombel rushed in to see what was the matter. Cimme,
waking up, did not budge, because, he did not wish to witness such a
scene.
She was sitting up, with haggard eyes. Her dog, in order to escape being
pursued by little Joseph, had jumped up on the bed, run over the sick
woman, and entrenched behind the pillow, was looking down at his playmate
with snapping eyes, ready to jump down and begin the game again. He was
holding in his mouth one of his mistress' slippers, which he had torn to
pieces and with which he had been playing for the last hour.
The child, frightened by this woman who had suddenly risen in front of
him, stood motionless before the bed.
The hen had also come in, and frightened by the noise, had jumped up on a
chair and was wildly calling her chicks, who were chirping distractedly
around the four legs of the chair.
Queen Hortense was shrieking:
"No, no, I don't want to die, I don't want to! I don't want to! Who will
bring up my children? Who will take care of them? Who will love them? No,
I don't want to!--I don't----"
She fell back. All was over.
The dog, wild with excitement, jumped about the room, barking.
Colombel ran to the window, calling his brother-in-law:
"Hurry up, hurry up! I think that she has just gone."
Then Cimme, resigned, arose and entered the room, mumbling
"It didn't take as long as I thought it would!"
TIMBUCTOO
The boulevard, that river of humanity, was alive with people in the
golden light of the setting sun. The whole sky was red, blinding, and
behind the Madeleine an immense bank of flaming clouds cast a shower of
light the whole length of the boulevard, vibrant as the heat from a
brazier.
The gay, animated crowd went by in this golden mist and seemed to be
glorified. Their faces were gilded, their black hats and clothes took on
purple tints, the patent leather of their shoes cast bright reflections
on the asphalt of the sidewalk.
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