All the eyes were attracted in her direction.  Then the appetizing smell filled the coach, making the nostrils dilate and mouths water, while the jaws under the ears contracted painfully.  The contempt of the ladies for this girl was becoming ferocious, developing into a desire to kill her or throw her, with her drinking cup, her basket and her provisions, out of the coach on the snow.

All the while, Loiseau had been devouring with his eyes the pot of chicken.  He said:—­“Well, well, the lady has been more provident than all of us!  There are persons who always manage to think of everything.”—­She raised her head towards him:—­“Would you like some, Sir?” “It is hard to fast since morning—­” And looking around him he added:—­“In moments like this, one is glad to find obliging people.”

He had a newspaper which he unfolded on his knees in order not to soil his trousers, and with the point of a knife, which he always carried in his pocket, he picked a leg thoroughly varnished with jelly, bit it off and chewed it with such evident relish, that there arose in the coach a heavy sigh of distress.

Boule de Suif, with a humble and gentle voice, proposed to the good Sisters to share her luncheon.  They both accepted instantly and, without raising their eyes, began to eat very fast, after having muttered a few words of thanks.  Neither did Cornudet decline the offer of his neighbor, and with the nuns, they improvised a sort of table by unfolding newspapers on their knees.

Mouths were opening and closing constantly, swallowing, chewing, gulping ferociously.  Loiseau in his corner was very busy eating, and in a low voice was urging his wife to imitate him.  She resisted for a long time, but, after a cramp, which ran through her stomach, she yielded.  Then her husband, rounding his sentences, asked their “charming companion” whether she would allow him to offer a small piece to Madame Loiseau.  She replied:—­“Why, certainly, Sir!”—­with an amiable smile, and held out the terrine.  An embarrassment occurred when the first bottle of claret was opened:  there was only one drinking cup.  They passed it around after wiping it each time.  Cornudet alone, no doubt in a spirit of gallantry, put his lips on the spot which was still moist from the lips of his neighbor.

Then, surrounded by people who were eating, suffocated by the emanations of the food, Count and Countess de Breville, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Carre-Lamadon, were suffering from that torture which has perpetuated the name of Tantalus.  All at once the manufacturer’s young wife heaved a sigh which caused every one to turn and look at her; she was as white as the snow outside; her eyes closed, her head fell forward, and she fainted.  Her husband, alarmed, was imploring everybody’s help.  All lost their heads, but the oldest of the two Nuns holding in her arm the head of the unconscious lady, slipped between her lips the drinking cup of Boule de Suif and made her swallow a few drops of wine.  The pretty lady moved, opened her eyes, smiled and declared in a dying voice that she felt better.  However, to prevent a recurrence of the fainting, the Nun obliged her to drink a full cup of claret, and she added:—­“It is just hunger, and nothing else.”