he
laughed with a shrillness which almost shattered the windows, familiarly
calling her companion "My big darling."

Shame overwhelmed Patissot, who as a government employee, had to observe
a certain amount of decorum. But Octavie stopped talking, glancing at
her neighbors, seized with the overpowering desire which haunts all
women of a certain class to make the acquaintance of respectable women.
After about five minutes she thought she had found an opening, and,
drawing from her pocket a Gil-Blas, she politely offered it to one
of the amazed ladies, who declined, shaking her head. Then the big,
red-haired girl began saying things with a double meaning, speaking
of women who are stuck up without being any better than the others;
sometimes she would let out a vulgar word which acted like a bomb
exploding amid the icy dignity of the passengers.

At last they arrived. Patissot immediately wished to gain the shady
nooks of the park, hoping that the melancholy of the forest would quiet
the ruffled temper of his companion. But an entirely different effect
resulted. As soon as she was amid the leaves and grass she began to
sing at the top of her lungs snatches from operas which had stuck in her
frivolous mind, warbling and trilling, passing from "Robert le Diable"
to the "Muette," lingering especially on a sentimental love-song, whose
last verses she sang in a voice as piercing as a gimlet.

Then suddenly she grew hungry. Patissot, who was still awaiting the
hoped-for tenderness, tried in vain to retain her. Then she grew angry,
exclaiming:

"I am not here for a dull time, am I?"

He had to take her to the Petit-Havre restaurant, which was near the
place where the regatta was to be held.

She ordered an endless luncheon, a succession of dishes substantial
enough to feed a regiment. Then, unable to wait, she called for
relishes. A box of sardines was brought; she started in on it as though
she intended to swallow the box itself. But when she had eaten two or
three of the little oily fish she declared that she was no longer hungry
and that she wished to see the preparations for the race.

Patissot, in despair and in his turn seized with hunger, absolutely
refused to move. She started off alone, promising to return in time for
the dessert. He began to eat in lonely silence, not knowing how to lead
this rebellious nature to the realization of his dreams.

As she did not return he set out in search of her. She had found so