oing out;
you can give me a sitting on Sunday.'

At this Claude, stupefied, fairly stared at the emaciated Mathilde, and
then at the huge vintaging woman.

'What?' he cried, 'is it madame who poses for that figure? The dickens,
you exaggerate!'

Then the laughter began again, while the sculptor stammered his
explanations. 'Oh! she only poses for the head and the hands, and merely
just to give me a few indications.'

Mathilde, however, laughed with the others, with a sharp, brazen-faced
laughter, showing the while the gaping holes in her mouth, where several
teeth were wanting.

'Yes,' resumed Mahoudeau. 'I have to go out on some business now. Isn't
it so, you fellows, we are expected over yonder?'

He had winked at his friends, feeling eager for a good lounge. They all
answered that they were expected, and helped him to cover the figure of
the vintaging girl with some strips of old linen which were soaking in a
pail of water.

However, Mathilde, looking submissive but sad, did not stir. She merely
shifted from one place to another, when they pushed against her, while
Chaine, who was no longer painting, glanced at her over his picture. So
far, he had not opened his lips. But as Mahoudeau at last went off with
his three friends, he made up his mind to ask, in his husky voice:

'Shall you come home to-night?'

'Very late. Have your dinner and go to bed. Good-bye.'

Then Chaine remained alone with Mathilde in the damp shop, amidst the
heaps of clay and the puddles of water, while the chalky light from the
whitened windows glared crudely over all the wretched untidiness.

Meantime the four others, Claude and Mahoudeau, Jory and Sandoz,
strolled along, seeming to take up the whole width of the Boulevard des
Invalides. It was the usual thing, the band was gradually increased by
the accession of comrades picked up on the way, and then came the wild
march of a horde upon the war-path. With the bold assurance of their
twenty summers, these young fellows took possession of the foot
pavement. The moment they were together trumpets seemed to sound in
advance of them; they seized upon Paris and quietly dropped it into
their pockets. There was no longer the slightest doubt about their
victory; they freely displayed their threadbare coats and old shoes,
like destined conquerors of to-morrow who disdained bagatelles, and
had only to take the trouble to become the masters of all the luxury
surrounding them. And all this was