fluttered in the grey sky round the trefoil bell-turrets; the square,
resounding with cries, was fragrant with the flowers that bordered its
pavement, roses, jasmines, pinks, narcissi, and tube-roses, unevenly
spaced out between moist grasses, catmint, and chickweed for the birds;
the fountains gurgled in the centre, and under large umbrellas, amidst
melons, piled up in heaps, flower-women, bare-headed, were twisting
paper round bunches of violets.

The young man took one. It was the first time that he had bought flowers
for a woman, and his breast, as he smelt them, swelled with pride, as if
this homage that he meant for another had recoiled upon himself.

But he was afraid of being seen; he resolutely entered the church. The
beadle, who was just then standing on the threshold in the middle of the
left doorway, under the "Dancing Marianne," with feather cap, and rapier
dangling against his calves, came in, more majestic than a cardinal, and
as shining as a saint on a holy pyx.

He came towards Leon, and, with that smile of wheedling benignity
assumed by ecclesiastics when they question children--

"The gentleman, no doubt, does not belong to these parts? The gentleman
would like to see the curiosities of the church?"

"No!" said the other.

And he first went round the lower aisles. Then he went out to look at
the Place. Emma was not coming yet. He went up again to the choir.

The nave was reflected in the full fonts with the beginning of the