e Route de Saint-Denis,
he won't catch a sunstroke."

That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased.
It was becoming ludicrous. They must decide on something unless they
planned to sit there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So
for the next quarter of an hour, while the persistent rain continued,
they tried to think of what to do. Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they
play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a most amusing game, the game of true
confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of going to eat onion tarts on the
Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to hear some stories. Gaudron
said he wasn't a bit put out and thought they were quite well off where
they were, out of the downpour. He suggested sitting down to dinner
immediately.

There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would
put everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were
stupid. Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk
along the outer Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit
the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer
able to control herself. She was leaving, she was. Were they trying to
make fun of her? She got all dressed up and came out in the rain. And
for what? To be wasting time in a wineshop. No, she had had enough
of this wedding party. She'd rather be in her own home. Coupeau and
Lorilleux had to get between her and the door to keep her from leaving.
She kept telling them, "Get out of my way! I am leaving, I tell you!"

Lorilleux finally succeeded in calming her down. Coupeau went over to
Gervaise, who had been sitting quietly in a corner with mother Coupeau
and Madame Fauconnier.

"You haven't suggested anything," he said to her.

"Oh! Whatever they want," she replied, laughing. "I don't mind. We can
go out or stay here."

She seemed aglow with contentment. She had spoken to each guest as they
arrived. She spoke sensibly, in her soft voice, not getting into any
disagreements. During the downpour, she had sat with her eyes wide open,
watching the lightning as though she could see the future in the sudden
flashes.

Monsieur Madinier had up to this time not proposed anything. He was
leaning against the bar, with the tails of his dress coat thrust apart,
while he fully maintained the important air of an employer. He kept on
expectorating, and rolled his big eyes about.

"_Mon Dieu_!" said he, "we might go to the Mus