resolute as a whirling weather-vane.

In seeking some distraction for his mind, some occupation for his body,
he recollected that on that particular day of the week certain members
of his club had the habit of meeting regularly at the Moorish Baths,
where they breakfasted after the massage. So he dressed quickly, hoping
that the hot room and the shower would calm him, and he went out.

As soon as he found himself in the street, he felt the cold air, that
first crisp cold of the early frost, which destroys in a single night
the last trances of summer.

All along the Boulevards fell a thick shower of large yellow leaves
which rustled down with a dry sound. As far as could be seen, they fell
from one end of the broad avenue to the other, between the facades of
the houses, as if all their stems had just been cut from the branches
by a thin blade of ice. The road and the sidewalks were already covered
with them, resembling for a few hours the paths in the woods at the
beginning of winter. All that dead foliage crackled under the feet,
and massed itself, from time to time, in light waves under the gusts of
wind.

This was one of those days of transition which mark the end of one
season and the beginning of another, which have a savor or a special
sadness--the sadness of the death-struggle or the savor of rising sap.

In crossing the threshold of the Moorish Baths, the thought of the heat
that would soon penetrate his flesh after his walk in the cold air gave
a feeling of satisfaction to Olivier's sad heart.

He undressed quickly, wrapping around his body the light scarf the
attendant handed to him, and disappeared behind the padded door open
before him.

A warm, oppressive breath, which seemed to come from a distant furnace,
made him pant as if he needed air while traversing a Moorish gallery
lighted by two Oriental lanterns. Then a negro with woolly head, attired
only in a girdle, with shining body and muscular limbs, ran before
him to raise a curtain at the other end; and Bertin entered the large
hot-air room, round, high-studded, silent, almost as mystic as a temple.
Daylight fell from above through a cupola and through trefoils of
colored glass into the immense circular room, with paved floor and walls
covered with pottery decorated after the Arab fashion.

Men of all ages, almost naked, walked slowly about, grave and silent;
others were seated on marble benches, with arms crossed; others still
chatted in low ton