account of his tomfoolery, which made him laugh. He now roused his wife,
who kept her eyes closed. When she had risen to her feet, and shaken her
skirt, which was all crumpled, and covered with dry leaves, the party
quitted the clearing, breaking the small branches they found in their
way.

They left the island, and walked along the roads, along the byways
crowded with groups in Sunday finery. Between the hedges ran girls
in light frocks; a number of boating men passed by singing; files of
middle-class couples, of elderly persons, of clerks and shopmen with
their wives, walked the short steps, besides the ditches. Each roadway
seemed like a populous, noisy street. The sun alone maintained its
great tranquility. It was descending towards the horizon, casting on
the reddened trees and white thoroughfares immense sheets of pale light.
Penetrating freshness began to fall from the quivering sky.

Camille had ceased giving his arm to Therese. He was chatting with
Laurent, laughing at the jests, at the feats of strength of his friend,
who leapt the ditches and raised huge stones above his head. The young
woman, on the other side of the road, advanced with her head bent
forward, stooping down from time to time to gather an herb. When she had
fallen behind, she stopped and observed her sweetheart and husband in
the distance.

"Heh! Aren't you hungry?" shouted Camille at her.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then, come on!" said he.

Therese was not hungry; but felt tired and uneasy. She was in ignorance
as to the designs of Laurent, and her lower limbs were trembling with
anxiety.

The three, returning to the riverside, found a restaurant, where they
seated themselves at table on a sort of terrace formed of planks in an
indifferent eating-house reeking with the odour of grease and wine. This
place resounded with cries, songs, and the clatter of plates and dishes.
In each private room and public saloon, were parties talking in loud
voices, and the thin partitions gave vibrating sonority to all this
riot. The waiters, ascending to the upper rooms, caused the staircase to
shake.

Above, on the terrace, the puffs of air from the river drove away the
smell of fat. Therese, leaning over the balustrade, observed the quay.
To right and left, extended two lines of wine-shops and shanties of
showmen. Beneath the arbours in the gardens of the former, amid the few
remaining yellow leaves, one perceived the white tablecloths, the dabs
of bl