d spoons which mingled with the throb of life pervading
the vast nave. The sparrows had flown up to the forest of iron girders
again, and one could hear their sharp little chirps, the twittering with
which they serenaded the setting sun, under the warm panes of the glass
roof. The atmosphere, moreover, had become heavy, there was a damp
greenhouse-like warmth; the air, stationary as it was, had an odour as
of humus, freshly turned over. And rising above the garden throng,
the din of the first-floor galleries, the tramping of feet on their
iron-girdered flooring still rolled on with the clamour of a tempest
beating against a cliff.

Claude, who had a keen perception of that rumbling storm, ended by
hearing nothing else; it had been let loose and was howling in his
ears. It was the merriment of the crowd whose jeers and laughter swept
hurricane-like past his picture. With a weary gesture he exclaimed:

'Come, what are we messing about here for? I sha'n't take anything at
the refreshment bar, it reeks of the Institute. Let's go and have a
glass of beer outside, eh?'

They all went out, with sinking legs and tired faces, expressive of
contempt. Once outside, on finding themselves again face to face with
healthy mother Nature in her springtide season, they breathed noisily
with an air of delight. It had barely struck four o'clock, the slanting
sun swept along the Champs Elysees and everything flared: the serried
rows of carriages, like the fresh foliage of the trees, and the
sheaf-like fountains which spouted up and whirled away in golden dust.
With a sauntering step they went hesitatingly down the central avenue,
and finally stranded in a little cafe, the Pavillon de la Concorde, on
the left, just before reaching the Place. The place was so small that
they sat down outside it at the edge of the footway, despite the chill
which fell from a vault of leaves, already fully grown and gloomy.
But beyond the four rows of chestnut-trees, beyond the belt of verdant
shade, they could see the sunlit roadway of the main avenue where Paris
passed before them as in a nimbus, the carriages with their wheels
radiating like stars, the big yellow omnibuses, looking even more
profusely gilded than triumphal chariots, the horsemen whose steeds
seemed to raise clouds of sparks, and the foot passengers whom the light
enveloped in splendour.

And during nearly three hours, with his beer untasted before him, Claude
went on talking and arguing