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"I have business with you before I cut your throat that smooth, white throat of yours that I kissed down there by the lavoir!" There was no sound from her. He went back toward the stairs and began hunting about in the starlight for his pistol; but there was no parapet on the bell platform, and he probably concluded that it had fallen over the edge of the tower into the street.
Moi je dirai que derrière le choeur on m'a montré les grandes bandes du gril où fut rôti Saint-Laurent, et une large pierre en forme de lavoir, sur laquelle Abraham fit manger, dit-on, les trois anges qui alloient détruire Sodome et Gomorre.
The road from the canal to the river, separated here by only a few yards, leads through a wide avenue, across a private estate belonging to the proprietor of the plaster quarries at Mareuil, to a ferry, beside which was the lavoir. There is a sunken and terraced fruit garden below the road, and an extensive enclosure for fancy fowl. The bank of the river showed me a sad sight.
There was another explosion, this time close by us, the end of the street became filled with smoke; at the moment we were passing No. 22, which has a side-door above which I read, "Petit Lavoir." Suddenly a voice called out to the driver, "Stop!" The driver pulled up, and the window of the fiacre being down, a hand was stretched towards mine. I recognized Alexander Rey. This daring man was pale.
Pan! tout noir de douleur "Take that for yourself and that for your sister and this for Lantier. And now I shall begin all over again. That is for Lantier that for your sister and this for yourself! "Pan! Pan! Margot au lavoir! Pan! Pan! a coups de battoir." They tore Virginie from her hands.
The quick colour reddened his face and powerful neck. The girl had been right; her smile had been an answer that he was not going to ignore. "What a pretty spot for a lavoir," he said, stepping to the edge of the pool; "and what a pretty girl to adorn it!" Maryette tossed her head: "Be pleased to pass your way, monsieur. Do you not perceive that I am busy?"
The women were laughing again by this time, but soon the cry began again of "Enough! Enough!" Gervaise did not even hear. She seemed entirely absorbed, as if she were fulfilling an appointed task, and she talked with strange, wild gaiety, recalling one of the rhymes of her childhood: "Pan! Pan! Margot au lavoir, Pan! Pan! a coups de battoir; Pan! Pan! va laver son coeur, Pan!
The "lavoir" stood at the top of the steps leading into the kitchen gardens; there was a large, square tank sunk in the ground, so that the women could kneel to their work, then a little higher another of beautiful clear water, all under cover. Just across the path there was a small house with a blazing wood fire; in the middle an enormous tub where all the linen was passed through wood ashes.
I’ve been wandering around in the bushes trying to find him," he explained, so naturally and in such a friendly voice that she raised her eyes to look again at this young gallant who lingered here at the lavoir for the sake of her beaux yeux. Could this dark-eyed, smiling youth be a Hun spy?
She smiled at him engagingly. "Sure. Anything you want! What’s the trouble, Maryette?" She shrugged her pretty shoulders: "Nothing. It just came into my cowardly head that the path to the lavoir is lonely at sundown. And there are new muleteers in Sainte Lesse. And I must wash my clothes."
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