With an unselfconscious movement she opened her dress completely, revealing her enormous, taut right breast with its brown nipple. The poor woman was moaning: ‘Oh my God! I don’t know what to do! What can I do?’

The train had set off again and was continuing its journey amid the flowers whose fragrance now deepened in the warmth of the evening. From time to time a fishing boat would appear, sleeping on the surface of the blue sea, its motionless white sail reflected in the water like its own double, upside-down.

Embarrassed the young man stammered: ‘Madame … perhaps I could … perhaps I could help you …’

In a broken voice she replied: ‘Oh yes if you will. That’d be a great help. I can’t … I really can’t stand it any more!’

He knelt down in front of her. She leaned towards him and with a practised gesture pushed the dark tip of her breast towards his mouth. With the movement she made with both hands to proffer her breast to the man a drop of milk appeared at the crown. He licked it greedily then, as if on a fruit, closed his lips on the heavy breast. Regularly and deeply he began to suck. He put both arms around the woman’s waist so as to bring her closer to him and drank in long, slow draughts, making movements with his neck like a baby.

Suddenly she said: ‘There, that’s enough on that side. Take the other one now.’

Obediently he moved to the other breast. She put her two hands on the young man’s back and was now breathing deeply and contentedly, enjoying the fragrance of the flowers mingled with the gusts of air that blew into the carriage as they moved.

‘Smells lovely round here,’ she said.

He made no reply and continued to drink at the human fountain, his eyes closed as if to savour the pleasure of it. Gently, however, she pushed him away.

‘That’s enough. I feel much better now. It’s put new life in me.’

He got up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. As she replaced inside her dress the two living gourds of her bosom, she said, ‘That was a great help, Monsieur. Thanks very much.’

Gratefully, he replied, ‘My pleasure, Madame, I’ll tell you. I’ve had no food for two days.’

MOTHER SAUVAGE

It was fifteen years since I had been in Virelogne, then one autumn I went back for some shooting at the invitation of my friend Serval. During the war the Prussians had destroyed his château there and restoration work on it was now complete.