Autumn Glory; Or, The Toilers of the Field. Rene Bazin

she were addressing those enemies before whom her tongue had been tied:

      "They have sent away Jean Nesmy," she said rising.

      "He, my dear? Such a good worker? And why?"

      "Because I love him, Aunt Michelonne. They turned him out this morning. And they think that all is over between us because I shall not see him again. They little know the girls of these parts."

      "Well said, Maraîchine," exclaimed the old aunt.

      "I will give them all my money, yes, readily; but my love – where I have placed it there I will leave it. It is as sacred as my baptismal vows. I have no fear of poverty; no fear that he will forget me. The day he comes back, for he has promised to come back, I will go to meet him, and no one shall prevent me – had I to cross the Marais, were there snow and ice, and all the girls of the town to mock at me, did my father and my brothers forbid me to go, still I would do it!"

      Erect, passionate, she made the walls of the little room unused to loud voices ring with the voice of love and bitterness. It was to herself, herself only, that she spoke, because she suffered. She was looking straight before her, vaguely, apparently unaware of the Michelonne's presence.