Loiseau, who understood the situation very clearly, inquired suddenly whether that “wench” was going to keep them much longer in such a place.  The Count, always courteous, realized that they could not expect such a painful sacrifice from a woman, and that the offer should originate from her.  Monsieur Carre-Lamadon remarked that if the French undertook, as it was rumored, a counter-offensive by way of Dieppe, the battle would certainly be fought in Totes.  This remark made the other two quite anxious—­“How about trying to escape on foot?” suggested Loiseau.  The Count shrugged his shoulders:—­“That is out of the question in this snow, and with our wives!  And furthermore we would be pursued immediately, caught in ten minutes and brought back as prisoners, at the mercy of the soldiers”—­That was true.  There was silence again.

The ladies talked toilette, but a certain constraint seemed to separate them.

Suddenly the Officer appeared at the end of the street.  On the snow that bound the horizon, his tall and wasp-like uniformed figure outlined itself; he walked, knees apart, with that motion particular to soldiers who are anxious not to soil their carefully polished boots.

He bowed as he passed the ladies, and looked scornfully at the men who, it must be said to their credit, had enough dignity not to raise their hats, although Loiseau made a move to take off his headgear.

Boule de Suif blushed red to her ears, and the three married women felt greatly humiliated to have been met by the Officer while they were in the company of this girl whom he had treated so unceremoniously.

Then they spoke of him, of his figure and his face.  Madame Carre-Lamadon, who had known many officers and who judged them as a connoisseur, found that this one was not so bad looking after all; she even regretted that he was not French, because he would have made a very handsome husband with whom all the women would have fallen in love.

Once back in the inn, they did not know what to do with themselves.  Even acrid words were exchanged about insignificant matters.  The silent dinner did not last long and each went upstairs to bed, in the hope of sleeping the time away.

The next morning they came down with tired faces and exasperated tempers.  The women hardly spoke to Boule de Suif.

A Church bell began to ring; it was for a baptism.  Boule de Suif had a child being brought up by peasants in Yvetot.  She did not see it even once a year and never gave it a thought; but the idea of the one that was going to be baptized developed a sudden and violent tenderness for her own and she insisted absolutely on going to the ceremony.

As soon as she was gone, those who remained looked at each other, and drew their chairs closer, for they felt that in the end they had to take some decision.—­Loiseau had an inspiration:  he suggested that they should propose to the officer to keep Boule de Suif only and let the others go.