And he recognised the beadle, holding under his arms and balancing
against his stomach some twenty large sewn volumes. They were works
"which treated of the cathedral."

"Idiot!" growled Leon, rushing out of the church.

A lad was playing about the close.

"Go and get me a cab!"

The child bounded off like a ball by the Rue Quatre-Vents; then they
were alone a few minutes, face to face, and a little embarrassed.

"Ah! Leon! Really--I don't know--if I ought," she whispered. Then with a
more serious air, "Do you know, it is very improper--"

"How so?" replied the clerk. "It is done at Paris."

And that, as an irresistible argument, decided her.

Still the cab did not come. Leon was afraid she might go back into the
church. At last the cab appeared.

"At all events, go out by the north porch," cried the beadle, who was
left alone on the threshold, "so as to see the Resurrection, the Last
Judgment, Paradise, King David, and the Condemned in Hell-flames."

"Where to, sir?" asked the coachman.

"Where you like," said Leon, forcing Emma into the cab.