And the procession marched under one of the arches of the bridge.

They were very comfortable there.

It was, most decidedly a capital idea! The ladies, spreading their handkerchiefs over the paving-stones, sat down with their knees wide apart, and pulled out the blades of grass that grew between the stones with both hands, whilst they watched the dark flowing water as though they were in the country.

The men amused themselves with calling out very loud, so as to awaken the echoes of the arch.

Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker shouted insults into the air at the top of their voices, one after the other.