He moved round and about therein, delighted with the fine linen and the soft touch of that unmanly garment, in the folds of which he thought he discovered some of Nana's own warm life.
Meanwhile Zoe had taken the soaked clothes down to the kitchen in order to dry them as quickly as possible in front of a vine-branch fire.

Then Georges, as he lounged in an easy chair, ventured to make a confession.
"I say, are you going to feed this evening?
I'm dying of hunger.

I haven't dined." Nana was vexed.

The great silly thing to go sloping off from Mamma's with an empty stomach, just to chuck himself into a hole full of water! But she was as hungry as a hunter too.

They certainly must feed! Only they would have to eat what they could get.