ue of flower stalls which runs
through the fruit pavilion. Here on either hand, from end to end, big
clumps of flowers bloom as in the borders of a garden walk. It is a
perfect harvest, sweet with perfume, a double hedge of blossoms, between
which the girls of the neighbourhood love to walk, smiling the while,
though almost stifled by the heavy perfume. And on the top tiers of the
stalls are artificial flowers, with paper leaves, in which dewdrops are
simulated by drops of gum; and memorial wreaths of black and white beads
rippling with bluish reflections. Cadine's rosy nostrils would dilate
with feline sensuality; she would linger as long as possible in that
sweet freshness, and carry as much of the perfume away with her as she
could. When her hair bobbed under Marjolin's nose he would remark that
it smelt of pinks. She said that she had given over using pomatum; that
is was quite sufficient for her to stroll through the flower walk in
order to scent her hair. Next she began to intrigue and scheme with
such success that she was engaged by one of the stallkeepers. And then
Marjolin declared that she smelt sweet from head to foot. She lived in
the midst of roses, lilacs, wall-flowers, and lilies of the valley;
and Marjolin would playfully smell at her skirts, feign a momentary
hesitation, and then exclaim, "Ah, that's lily of the valley!" Next he
would sniff at her waist and bodice: "Ah, that's wall-flowers!" And at
her sleeves and wrists: "Ah, that's lilac!" And at her neck, and her
cheeks and lips: "Ah, but that's roses!" he would cry. Cadine used to
laugh at him, and call him a "silly stupid," and tell him to get away,
because he was tickling her with the tip of his nose. As she spoke her
breath smelt of jasmine. She was verily a bouquet, full of warmth and
life.

She now got up at four o'clock every morning to assist her mistress in
her purchases. Each day they bought armfuls of flowers from the
suburban florists, with bundles of moss, and bundles of fern fronds,
and periwinkle leaves to garnish the bouquets. Cadine would gaze with
amazement at the diamonds and Valenciennes worn by the daughters of
the great gardeners of Montreuil, who came to the markets amidst their
roses.

On the saints' days of popular observance, such as Saint Mary's, Saint
Peter's, and Saint Joseph's days, the sale of flowers began at two
o'clock. More than a hundred thousand francs' worth of cut flowers would
be sold on the footways, and som