But, in the evening, at twilight, he calmed down, and gave over striding furiously round the little room.

He inhaled a sweet odour there; a feeling of comfort relaxed his nerves.

Monsieur Garconnet, who was very rich, refined, and vain, had caused this little room to be arranged in a very elegant fashion; the sofa was soft and warm; scents, pomades, and soaps adorned the marble washstand, and the pale light fell from the ceiling with a soft glow, like the gleams of a lamp suspended in an alcove.

Macquart, amidst this perfumed soporific atmosphere fell asleep, thinking that those scoundrels, the rich, "were very fortunate, all the same." He had covered himself with a blanket which had been given to him, and with his head and back and arms reposing on the cushions, he stretched himself out on the couch until morning.

When he opened his eyes, a ray of sunshine was gliding through the opening above.