"You'll have another four hours mayhap to wait in this filthy atmosphere."
"What an aristo you are, citizen Rateau!" the other retorted drily. "Always talking about atmosphere!"
"So would you, if you had only one lung wherewith to inhale this filth," growled the giant through a wheeze.
"Then don't wait for me, my friend," Langlois concluded with a careless shrug of his narrow shoulders. "And, if you don't mind missing your turn. . . ."
"I do not," was Rateau's curt reply. "I would as soon be last as not. But I'll come back presently. I am the third from now. If I'm not back you can have my turn, and I'll follow you in. But I can't——"
His next words were smothered in a terrible fit of coughing, as he struggled to his feet. Langlois swore at him for making such a noise, and the women, roused from their somnolence, sighed with impatience or resignation. But all those who remained seated on the benches watched with a kind of dull curiosity, the ungainly figure of the asthmatic giant as he made his way across the room and anon went out through the door.
His heavy footsteps were heard descending the stone stairs with a shuffling sound, and the clatter of his wooden shoes. The women once more settled themselves against the dank walls, with feet stretched out before them and arms folded over their breasts, and in that highly uncomfortable position prepared once more to go to sleep.
Langlois buried his hands in the pockets of his breeches, spat contentedly upon the floor, and continued to wait.
§3
In the meanwhile, the girl who, with tear-filled eyes, had come out of the inner mysterious room in Mother Théot's apartments, had, after a slow descent down the interminable stone stairs, at last reached the open air.