Laurent looked from Therese to Camille, and the former painter
restrained a smile. He completed his phrase by a broad voluptuous
gesture, which the young woman followed with her eyes. They were at
dessert, and Madame Raquin had just run downstairs to serve a customer.

When the cloth was removed Laurent, who for some minutes had been
thoughtful, turned to Camille.

"You know," he blurted out, "I must paint your portrait."

This idea delighted Madame Raquin and her son, but Therese remained
silent.

"It is summer-time," resumed Laurent, "and as we leave the office at
four o'clock, I can come here, and let you give me a sitting for a
couple of hours in the evening. The picture will be finished in a week."

"That will be fine," answered Camille, flushed with joy. "You shall dine
with us. I will have my hair curled, and put on my black frock coat."

Eight o'clock struck. Grivet and Michaud made their entry. Olivier and
Suzanne arrived behind them.

When Camille introduced his friend to the company, Grivet pinched his
lips. He detested Laurent whose salary, according to his idea, had risen
far too rapidly. Besides, the introduction of a new-comer was quite an
important matter, and the guests of the Raquins could not receive an
individual unknown to them, without some display of coldness.