one of the Fat nor one of the
Thin!"

They both laughed. They were now in front of the Arc de Triomphe. The
sun, over by the hills of Suresnes, was so low on the horizon that their
colossal shadows streaked the whiteness of the great structure even
above the huge groups of statuary, like strokes made with a piece of
charcoal. This increased Claude's merriment, he waved his arms and bent
his body; and then, as he started on his way again, he said; "Did you
notice--just as the sun set our two heads shot up to the sky!"

But Florent no longer smiled. Paris was grasping him again, that Paris
which now frightened him so much, after having cost him so many tears at
Cayenne. When he reached the markets night was falling, and there was
a suffocating smell. He bent his head as he once more returned to
the nightmare of endless food, whilst preserving the sweet yet sad
recollection of that day of bright health odorous with the perfume of
thyme.

CHAPTER V

At about four o'clock on the afternoon of the following day Lisa betook
herself to Saint Eustache. For the short walk across the square she had
arrayed herself very seriously in a black silk gown and thick woollen
shawl. The handsome Norman, who, from her stall in the fish market,
watched her till she vanished into the church porch, was quite amazed.

"Hallo! So the fat thing's gone in for priests now, has she?" she
exclaimed, with a sneer. "Well, a little holy water may do her good!"

She was mistaken in her surmises, however, for Lisa was not a devotee.
She did not observe the ordinances of the Church, but said that she
did her best to lead an honest life, and that this was all that was
necessary. At the same time, however, she disliked to hear religion
spoken ill of, and often silenced Gavard, who delighted in scandalous
stories of priests and their doings. Talk of that sort seemed to her
altogether improper. Everyone, in her opinion, should be allowed to
believe as they pleased, and every scruple should be respected. Besides,
the majority of the clergy were most estimable men. She knew Abbe
Roustan, of Saint Eustache--a distinguished priest, a man of shrewd
sense, and one, she thought, whose friendship might be safely relied
upon. And she would wind up by explaining that religion was absolutely
necessary for the people; she looked upon it as a sort of police force
that helped to maintain order, and without which no government would be
possible. When Gavard went to