they came back and politely asked the ladies whether they would like a
row.

"Would you like one, Monsieur Dufour?" his wife exclaimed. "Please come!"

He merely gave her a drunken nod, without understanding what she said.
Then one of the rowers came up with two fishing rods in his hands, and
the hope of catching a gudgeon, that great vision of the Parisian
shopkeeper, made Dufour's dull eyes gleam, and he politely allowed them
to do whatever they liked, while he sat in the shade under the bridge,
with his feet dangling over the river, by the side of the young man with
the yellow hair, who was sleeping soundly.

One of the boating men made a martyr of himself and took the mother.

"Let us go to the little wood on the Ile aux Anglais!" he called out as
he rowed off. The other boat went more slowly, for the rower was looking
at his companion so intently that by thought of nothing else, and his
emotion seemed to paralyze his strength, while the girl, who was sitting
in the bow, gave herself up to the enjoyment of being on the water. She
felt a disinclination to think, a lassitude in her limbs and a total
enervation, as if she were intoxicated, and her face was flushed and her
breathing quickened. The effects of the wine, which were increased by the
extreme heat, made all the trees on the bank seem to bow as she passed. A
vague wish for enjoyment and a fermentation of her blood seemed to
pervade her whole body, which was excited by the heat of the day, and she
was also disturbed at this tete-a-tete on the water, in a place which
seemed depopulated by the heat, with this young man who thought her
pretty, whose ardent looks seemed to caress her skin and were as
penetrating and pervading as the sun's rays.

Their inability to speak increased their emotion, and they looked about
them. At last, however, he made an effort and asked her name.

"Henriette," she said.

"Why, my name is Henri," he replied. The sound of their voices had calmed
them, and they looked at the banks. The other boat had passed them and
seemed to be waiting for them, and the rower called out:

"We will meet you in the wood; we are going as far as Robinson's, because
Madame Dufour is thirsty." Then he bent over his oars again and rowed off
so quickly that he was soon out of sight.

Meanwhile a continual roar, which they had heard for some time, came
nearer, and the river itself seemed to shiver, as if the dull noise were
rising from its depths.

"W