He cut her short. ‘This a matter for the police! If it was up to me I’d have them locked up in Saint-Lazare!’5

She gave a start. ‘Oh you would, would you?’

‘Certainly I would. And in the meantime I forbid you to have anything to do with them. I absolutely forbid it, do you understand?’

She shrugged her shoulders at this and said in a suddenly calm voice: ‘Listen, dear, I shall do exactly as I please. If you don’t like it you know what you can do. Get the hell out. Now. I’m not your wife, so shut up.’

He remained silent and they stood staring each other out, breathing rapidly, their mouths set.

At the other end of the café the women were now making their entrance. The two dressed as men led, one gaunt and weatherbeaten, ageing and very butch. The other, more than amply filling the white flannel outfit with her large bottom and her huge thighs encased in the wide trousers, waddled forward like a fat, bow-legged goose. The two friends followed and the whole boating community surged forward to shake hands.

The four had rented a riverside cottage and lived together there as two couples. Their vice was public, official and perfectly obvious to all. It was referred to quite naturally as something entirely normal. There were rumours about jealous scenes that took place there and about the various actresses and other famous women who frequented the little cottage near the water’s edge. One neighbour, scandalized by the goings-on, alerted the police at one stage and an inspector accompanied by one of his men came to make enquiries. It was a delicate mission: there was nothing the women could be prosecuted for, least of all prostitution. The inspector was deeply puzzled and could not understand what these alleged misdemeanours could possibly be. He asked a whole lot of pointless questions, compiled a lengthy report and dismissed the charges out of hand. The joke spread as far as Saint-Germain.

Like queens they now walked slowly the entire length of La Grenouillère. They seemed happy to be in the limelight and delighted with the attention paid to them by all this riff-raff. Madeleine and her lover watched them, and as they approached the girl’s face lit up.

When the leading couple reached their table Madeleine cried ‘Pauline!’ and the big girl, turning round, stopped, still arm in arm with her midshipwoman.

‘Well good heavens! Madeleine! Darling! Come and join us for a bit. We must catch up!’

Paul tightened his grip on his girl’s wrist but she said, ‘You know what you can do, sweetheart, shove off.’