Uncle Cyprien was thrilled by this spectacle and the noise that went with it. His eyes, his lungs, and his ears drunk in the intoxication of the orgy of colors, perfumes and sounds; in spite of himself he derived from it a sensation of supreme enchantment. He rushed after the fascinating coach, caught up with it, ran alongside of it and in front of it, swelling with pride, despite the speed which caught his breath. He passed through the gate, rode slowly under the shady trees, and stopped at a café to drink an _apéritif_. It was not until the lunch hour that he returned, still by the avenue du Bois. Sometimes on his way back he noticed among the passers-by an old gentleman with a white beard in the company of a young woman. "Sapristi!" he thought. "My brother and Mme. Rhâm-Bâhan, very likely.... I must be careful!... I must hurry out of this." He affected to close his eyes as if blinded by the dust, and rushed between the carriages like one pursued. It was a superfluous precaution; an imaginary peril! M. Raindal had also taken good care to look the other way. These Sunday morning outings were Mme. Chambannes' own idea. She had discovered this clever way of publicly showing her friendship with the master. And although this exhibition took place only one or two Sundays a month, Zozé derived much gratification for her vanity from it. Smiles and sarcastic grins which she noticed as she passed only increased her satisfaction. "You may laugh, my friends," she thought to herself, "you may joke, but, nevertheless, you envy me very much!" Most of the time Chambannes or her Uncle Panhias joined the couple for the sake of appearances. At other times, Gerald, either on foot or on his bicycle, came and stopped a while to exchange a few words with them. Despite the unpleasantness of such meetings, M. Raindal was far from disliking his Sunday walks. They brought relief to his week and with the reflection of their splendor seemed to illuminate the gloomy stagnation of the days that followed until he came again for his Thursday visits. They were like a supplementary holiday to him, a semi-monthly festival, and had it not been that he dreaded his family, he would have come every Sunday. Besides, what documents, what precious observations he was able to accumulate there, for use in his book! These refined young men and attractive women--were they not the living representatives of the voluptuous élite which persisted through the centuries? Did they not constitute the sacred battalion of pleasure which, at every period of history, led the chorus of elegance, issued the decrees of fashion, and dominated society by means of their charm, grace, and beauty? It needed but a simple effort of transposition for him to discern in them the coquettes and the men about town who had been the contemporaries of Rameses or King Tuthmosis!