nuts; while close to her, in reach of her hand, stood some yellow
earthen pans containing larded veal, _pate de foie gras_, and hare-pie.

As there were no signs of Gavard's coming, she arranged some fore-end
bacon upon a little marble shelf at the end of the counter, put the jars
of lard and dripping back into their places, wiped the plates of each
pair of scales, and saw to the fire of the heater, which was getting
low. Then she turned her head again, and gazed in silence towards
the markets. The smell of all the viands ascended around her, she was
enveloped, as it were, by the aroma of truffles. She looked beautifully
fresh that afternoon. The whiteness of all the dishes was supplemented
by that of her sleevelets and apron, above which appeared her plump
neck and rosy cheeks, which recalled the soft tones of the hams and the
pallor of all the transparent fat.

As Florent continued to gaze at her he began to feel intimidated,
disquieted by her prim, sedate demeanour; and in lieu of openly looking
at her he ended by glancing surreptitiously in the mirrors around the
shop, in which her back and face and profile could be seen. The mirror
on the ceiling, too, reflected the top of her head, with its tightly
rolled chignon and the little bands lowered over her temples. There
seemed, indeed, to be a perfect crowd of Lisas, with broad shoulders,
powerful arms, and round, full bosoms. At last Florent checked his
roving eyes, and let them rest on a particularly pleasing side view of
the young woman as mirrored between two pieces of pork. From the hooks
running along the whole line of mirrors and marbles hung sides of pork
and bands of larding fat; and Lisa, with her massive neck, rounded hips,
and swelling bosom seen in profile, looked like some waxwork queen in
the midst of the dangling fat and meat. However, she bent forward and
smiled in a friendly way at the two gold-fish which were ever and ever