"Then it is at night that the moles come out? The police have to go to sleep before we meet the brigands."
Étienne had risen, very calm and resolute.
"Listen! You annoy me. Yes, you are a spy; your money still stinks of some treachery. You've sold yourself, and it disgusts me to touch your skin. No matter; I'm your man. It is quite time that one of us did for the other."
Chaval clenched his fists.
"Come along, then, cowardly dog! I must call you so to warm you up. You all alone—I'm quite willing; and you shall pay for all the bloody tricks that have been played on me."
With suppliant arms Catherine advanced between them. But they had no need to repel her; she felt the necessity of the battle, and slowly drew back of her own accord. Standing against the wall, she remained silent, so paralysed with anguish that she no longer shivered, her large eyes gazing at these two men who were going to kill each other over her.
Madame Rasseneur simply removed the glasses from the counter for fear that they might be broken. Then she sat down again on the bench, without showing any improper curiosity. But two old mates could not be left to murder each other like this. Rasseneur persisted in interfering, and Souvarine had to take him by the shoulder and lead him back to the table, saying:
"It doesn't concern you. There is one of them too many, and the strongest must live."
Without waiting for the attack, Chaval's fists were already dealing blows at space. He was the taller of the two, and his blows swung about aiming at the face, with furious cutting movements of both arms one after the other, as though he were handling a couple of sabres. And he went on talking, playing to the gallery with volleys of abuse, which served to excite him.
"Ah! you damned devil, I'll have your nose! I'll do for your bloody nose! Just let me get at your chops, you whore's looking-glass; I'll make a hash for the bloody swine, and then we shall see if the strumpets will run after you!"