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72 mass were regaining their hamlet at an accelerated pace. At first timid and defiant, they halted, and after having consulted together, red as the neck of a turkey-cock, they drew close, pushing each other, and the crowd filled the boys' pockets and the girls' aprons with the remains of the meat-patties, sandwiches, badly broken bones and carcasses of chicken, and, as they were about to leave, called them back to put the hardly opened bottles of wine under their arms.

This interlude diverted the walkers until they came to the estate of the Dobouziez'. Cousin William, a good walker, would have liked to take the longest road back to the dock. His guests wanted first to know whether it was shadier, and whether there was anything else to see but fields and trees.

But as, after searching his memory. Monsieur Dobouziez remembered no other curiosities than an abandoned distillery and the military depot of Saint Bernard, the majority wanted to retrace their way by the shortest path at the risk of stumbling upon the penniless baron.

Having reached the house, and while waiting for dinner, the ladies went upstairs to freshen up, and the gentlemen went off to look at the grounds.

At dinner, which was served in a fashion to satisfy folk who did not care for rustic gastronomy, all were unanimous in praising their luncheon in the woods, and the younger folk, whose craving for food had now been satisfied, feigned astonishment at their appetites. "It is true that the walk and the fresh air …"

They took coffee on the terrace. Béjard took Gina to the piano and begged her to sing. Laurent went down into the garden, allured by the delicious evening-tide, the breeze from the Scheldt, the perfume of the