When Roubaud had opened the box of sardines he positively lost patience. It had been agreed that they should meet there at three o'clock. Where could she be? She would not have the audacity to tell him that it required a whole day to purchase a pair of boots, and a few articles of linen. And as he again passed before the looking-glass, he perceived his eyebrows on end, and his forehead furrowed with a harsh line. Never had he suspected her at Havre. In Paris he pictured to himself all sorts of danger, deceit, and levity. The blood rushed to his head, his fists of a former porter were clenched, as in the days when he shunted the carriages. He became the brute again, unconscious of his strength. He would have crushed her in an outburst of blind fury. Séverine pushed open the door, and presented herself quite fresh and joyful. "Here I am! Eh! you must have fancied me lost," she exclaimed. In the lustre of her five-and-twenty years she looked tall, slim, and very supple, but she was plump, notwithstanding her small bones. At first sight she did not appear pretty, with her long face, and large mouth set with beautiful teeth. But on observing her more closely, she fascinated one by her charm, by the peculiarity of her blue eyes, crowned with an abundance of raven hair. And as her husband, without answering, continued to examine her with the troubled, vacillating look she knew so well, she added: "Oh! I walked very fast. Just imagine, it was impossible to get an omnibus. Then, as I did not want to spend money on a cab, I walked as fast as I could. See how hot I am!" "Look here," said he violently, "you will not make me believe you come from the Bon Marché." But immediately, in the delightful manner of a child, she threw herself on his neck, closing his mouth with her pretty little plump hand. "Oh! you wicked creature! you wicked creature!" she exclaimed; "hold your tongue; you know I love you." She was so full of sincerity, he felt her still so candid, so straightforward, that he pressed her passionately in his arms. His suspicions always ended thus. She abandoned herself to him, loving to be petted. He covered her with kisses, which she did not return; and it was this that caused him a sort of vague uneasiness. This great, passive child, full of filial affection, had not yet awakened to love. "So you ransacked the Bon Marché?" said he. "Oh! yes. I'll tell you all about it," she replied. "But, first of all, let us eat. You cannot imagine how hungry I am! Ah! listen! I've a little present. Repeat, 'Where is my little present?'" And she laughed quite close to his face. She had thrust her right hand in her pocket, where she held an object she did not take out of it. "Say quick, 'Where is my little present?'" she continued. He also was laughing, like a good-natured man, and did as she asked him.