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As Monsieur, watchmaker 1 profession, was strolling 2 the boulevard one bright January morning, his hands in his trousers pockets and stomach empty, he suddenly came face 3 face with an acquaintance — Monsieur Sauvage, a fishing chum.

Before the war broke out Morissot had been 4 the habit of setting forth with a bamboo rod in his hand and a tin of box on his back. He took the train, got out at Colombes and walked to Ile Marante. The moment he arrived at this place of his dreams he began fishing and fished 5 nightfall.