They took the path on the right.

The gravel creaked beneath their feet.
"Madame Simonneau has forgotten to close the shutters again," said Ligny.
Madame Simonneau was a woman from Neuilly, who came every morning to clean up.
A large Judas-tree, leaning to one side, and to all appearance dead, stretched one of its round black branches as far as the portico.
"I don't quite like that tree," said Felicie; "its branches are like great snakes.

One of them goes almost into our room." They went up the three front steps; and, while he was looking through his bunch of keys for the key of the front door, she rested her head on his shoulder.
* * * * * Felicie, when unveiling her beauty, displayed a serene pride which made her adorable.

She revealed such a quiet satisfaction in her nudity that her chemise, when it fell to her feet, made the onlooker think of a white peacock.
And when Robert saw her in her nakedness, bright as the streams or stars, he said: "At least you don't make one badger you! Its curious: there are women, who, even if you don't ask them for anything, surrender themselves completely, go just as far as it's possible to go, yet all the time they won't let you see so much as a finger-breadth of skin." "Why ?" asked Felicie, playing with the airy threads of her hair.
Robert de Ligny had experience of women.

Yet he did not realize what an insidious question this was.