A few men's hats introduced here and there a black spot, whilst the women's pale complexions assumed in the fatigue and heat the transparencies of the camellia. At last, Hutin—thanks to his vigorous elbows—was able to open a way for the ladies, by keeping in front of them. But on ascending the stairs, Henriette could not find Mouret, who had just plunged Vallagnosc right into the crowd to complete his bewilderment, himself feeling the physical want of a dip into this bath of success. He lost his breath deliciously, he felt against his limbs a sort of caress from all his customers.
“To the left, ladies,” said Hutin, still attentive, notwithstanding his increasing exasperation.
Up above there was the same block. It invaded even the furnishing department, usually the quietest. The shawl, the fur, and the under-clothing departments swarmed with people. As the ladies were crossing the lace department another meeting took place. Madame de Boves was there with her daughter Blanche, both buried in the articles Deloche was showing them. And Hutin had to make another halt, bundle in hand.
“Good afternoon! I was just thinking of you.”
“I've been looking for you myself. But how can you expect to find any one in this crowd?”
“It's magnificent, isn't it?”
“Dazzling, my dear. We can hardly stand.”
“And you're buying?”
“Oh! no, we're only looking round. It rests us a little to be seated.”
As a fact, Madame de Boves, scarcely possessing more than her cab-fare in her purse, was having all sorts of laces handed down, simply for the pleasure of seeing and handling them. She had guessed Deloche to be a new salesman, slow and awkward, who dared not resist the customers' whims; and she took advantage of his bewildered good-nature, and kept him there half an hour, still asking for fresh articles. The counter was covered, she dived her hands into this increasing mountain of lace, Malines, Valenciennes, and Chantilly, her fingers trembling with desire, her face gradually warming with a sensual joy; whilst Blanche, close to her, agitated by the same passion, was very pale, her flesh inflated and soft. The conversation continued; Hutin, standing there waiting their good pleasure, could have slapped their faces.