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The key was in the door, so Claude went in. 'Hallo! have you come to fetch me? said Mahoudeau, in surprise. 'I've only got my hat to put on. But wait a bit, I was asking myself whether it wouldn't be better to light a little fire. I am uneasy about my woman there. Some water in a bucket was ice-bound.
But all at once Claude grew uneasy. What about his wedding? Mahoudeau must change his clothes. As he had no other frock-coat than the one he was wearing, he was obliged to make a jacket do. Then, the figure having been covered with linen wraps once more, like a corpse over which a sheet has been pulled, they both started off at a run.
She merely shifted from one place to another, when they pushed against her, while Chaine, who was no longer painting, glanced at her over his picture. So far, he had not opened his lips. But as Mahoudeau at last went off with his three friends, he made up his mind to ask, in his husky voice: 'Shall you come home to-night? 'Very late. Have your dinner and go to bed. Good-bye.
On the other hand, he did not alter; or, rather, age seemed to rejuvenate him; his complexion became fairer as he grew old. 'Hallo! Why, Gagniere's here! exclaimed Sandoz. Then, just as Gagniere was making up his mind to bow to the ladies, Mahoudeau entered. He had already grown grey, with a sunken, fierce-looking face and childish, blinking eyes.
They were different, however; he felt them to be changed: Mahoudeau soured by misery, Jory wrapt up in his own pleasures, Gagniere more distant, with his thoughts elsewhere. And it especially seemed to him that Fagerolles was chilly, in spite of his exaggerated cordiality of manner.
Christine, tired of waiting, had just started off with the three others, thinking that there had been some mistake that Claude might have told her that he would go straight to the mayor's offices with Mahoudeau. The pair fell into a sharp trot, but only overtook Christine and their comrades in the Rue Drouot in front of the municipal edifice.
'Oh, dear me! you have company I did not know; I'll drop in again. 'Yes, do, said Mahoudeau, looking very vexed. 'Besides, I am going out; you can give me a sitting on Sunday. At this Claude, stupefied, fairly stared at the emaciated Mathilde, and then at the huge vintaging woman. 'What? he cried, 'is it madame who poses for that figure? The dickens, you exaggerate!
Fagerolles related a story about Daddy Malgras and a female cousin by marriage, whom the dealer offered as a model on conditions that he was given a presentment of her in oils. Then they began to talk of models. Mahoudeau waxed furious, because the really well-built female models were disappearing. It was impossible to find one with a decent figure now.
Marseilles, the only city where people know how to eat! Claude, who for a little while had been absorbed in thought, now seemed to awaken from a dream, and without any transition he asked: 'Is it decided? Have they selected the artists for the new decorations of the Hotel de Ville? 'No, said Mahoudeau, 'they are going to do so. I sha'n't get anything, for I don't know anybody.
'There can be nothing more beautiful, said Claude, 'than the two first groups, the fiddler, and then the bride with the old peasant. 'And the strapping peasant girl, too, added Mahoudeau; the one who is turning round and beckoning! I had a great mind to take her for the model of a statue.
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