ore eating."

Suddenly a great stone came hurtling through the air and struck the
ground near Germinie's head; at the same moment she heard the painter's
voice shouting: "Don't be afraid! that's your chair."

One and all laid their handkerchiefs on the ground by way of
tablecloth. Eatables were produced from greasy papers. Bottles were
uncorked and the wine went round; the glasses were rested against tufts
of grass, and they fell to upon bits of pork and sausages, with slices
of bread for plates. The painter cut boats out of paper to hold the
salt, and imitated the orders shouted out by waiters in a cafe. "_Boum!
Pavillon! Servez!_" he cried. The company gradually became animated. The
open air, the patches of blue sky, the food and drink started the gayety
of the table in full blast. Hands approached one another, mouths met,
coarse remarks were whispered from one to another, shirt sleeves crept
around waists, and now and then energetic embraces were attended by
greedy, resounding kisses.

Germinie drank, and said nothing. The painter, who had taken his place
by her side, felt decidedly chilly and embarrassed beside his
extraordinary neighbor, who amused herself "so entirely inside."
Suddenly he began to beat a tattoo with his knife against his glass,
drowning the uproar of the party, and rose to his knees.

"Mesdames!" said he, with the voice of a paroquet that has sung too
much, "here's the health of a man in hard luck: myself! Perhaps it will
bring me good luck! Deserted, yes, mesdames; yes, I've been deserted!
I'm a widower! you know the kind of widower, _razibus_! I was struck all
of a heap. Not that I cared much for her, but habit, that old villain,
habit! The fact is I'm as bored as a bed-bug in a watch spring. For two
weeks my life has been like a restaurant without a _pousse-cafe_! And
when I love love as if it had made me! No wife! That's what I call
weaning a grown man! that is to say, since I've known what it is, I take
off my hat to the cures: I feel very sorry for them, 'pon my word! No
wife! and there are so many of 'em! But I can't walk about with a sign:
_Vacant man to let. Inquire within._ In the first place it would have to
be stamped by M'sieu le Prefet, and then, people are such fools, it
would draw a crowd! All of which, mesdames, is intended to inform you,
that if, among the people you have the honor of knowing, there should
happen to be one who'd like to make an acquaintance--virtuous
acquaint