Madame Lerat had stopped by so they could come together, but found her only beginning to get dressed.

The two sisters had argued.

The widow whispered in her brother's ear, "I left her flat! She's in a dreadful mood.

You'll see." And the wedding party had to wait another quarter of an hour, walking about the wineshop, elbowed and jostled in the midst of the men who entered to drink a glass of wine at the bar.

Now and again Boche, or Madame Fauconnier, or Bibi-the-Smoker left the others and went to the edge of the pavement, looking up at the sky.