It was as if a refreshing breath of nature had passed before his face.

At the same time his feelings in this respect were still vague, and the only well-defined pleasure that he experienced came from the young woman's fit of anger, that error of hers which brought her nearer to him, by lowering her in some degree from her pedestal of serene perfection.

It was, perhaps, that seeming perfection which had made him suffer; however, he was as yet unable to analyse his feelings.

That day, for the first time, he chatted with her for a little while, and when he went off he thought her very good-hearted and very human.
Two days later he again came to spend the afternoon in the large sunlit work-shop overlooking Paris.

Ever since he had become conscious of the idle life he was leading, he had felt very bored when he was alone, and only found relief among that gay, hardworking family.