It was a stifling evening. I was hot and uncomfortable, as I had not even had the courage to undo my belt. We had had a cold supper. The smell of cheese and sausage still hung about. It was the first taste of the promiscuousness. As long as the two doors were open, the atmosphere was breathable. But here was Bouguet, who had just lain down, shouting:
"What do you say to shutting the door. There's a beastly draught."
Some coarse aside of Judsi's raised roars of merriment.
Lamalou sat up.
"Let's shut the door."
I shouted from the end of the carriage:
"Steady on! You must leave room for a little air to get in!"
Lamalou took no notice.
"Didn't you hear?" asked Bouillon. "The sergeant's orders were to leave it open!"
Bouguet objected.