while she playfully pulled the moustaches of Monsieur Jules, who was arrayed in a velvet jacket.  He also caught sight of Madame Lecoeur and Mademoiselle Saget passing along one of the covered ways, and looking less sallow than usual—­indeed, almost rosy—­as they laughed like bosom friends over some amusing story.  In the fish market, old Madame Mehudin, who had returned to her stall, was slapping her fish, abusing customers, and snubbing the new inspector, a presumptuous young man whom she had sworn to spank; while Claire, seemingly more languid and indolent than ever, extended her hands, blue from immersion in the water of her tanks, to gather together a great heap of edible snails, shimmering with silvery slime.  In the tripe market Auguste and Augustine, with the foolish expression of newly-married people, had just been purchasing some pigs’ trotters, and were starting off in a trap for their pork shop at Montrouge.  Then, as it was now eight o’clock and already quite warm, Claude, on again coming to the Rue Rambuteau, perceived Muche and Pauline playing at horses.  Muche was crawling along on all-fours, while Pauline sat on his back, and clung to his hair to keep herself from falling.  However, a moving shadow which fell from the eaves of the market roof made Claude look up; and he then espied Cadine and Marjolin aloft, kissing and warming themselves in the sunshine, parading their loves before the whole neighbourhood like a pair of light-hearted animals.

Claude shook his fist at them.  All this joyousness down below and on high exasperated him.  He reviled the Fat; the Fat, he declared, had conquered the Thin.  All around him he could see none but the Fat protruding their paunches, bursting with robust health, and greeting with delight another day of gorging and digestion.  And a last blow was dealt to him by the spectacle which he perceived on either hand as he halted opposite the Rue Pirouette.

On his right, the beautiful Norman, or the beautiful Madame Lebigre, as she was now called, stood at the door of her shop.  Her husband had at length been granted the privilege of adding a State tobacco agency[*] to his wine shop, a long-cherished dream of his which he had finally been able to realise through the great services he had rendered to the authorities.  And to Claude the beautiful Madame Lebigre looked superb, with her silk dress and her frizzed hair, quite ready to take her seat behind her counter, whither all the gentlemen in the neighbourhood flocked to buy their cigars and packets of tobacco.  She had become quite distinguished, quite the lady.  The shop behind her had been newly painted, with borders of twining vine-branches showing against a soft background; the zinc-plated wine-counter gleamed brightly, and in the tall mirror the flasks of liqueurs set brighter flashes of colour than ever.  And the mistress of all these things stood smiling radiantly at the bright sunshine.

     [*] Most readers will remember that the tobacco trade is a
     State monopoly in France.  The retail tobacconists are merely
     Government agents.—­Translator.