immediately recognized the farmer's voice, when
he said to her: "Don't be frightened, Rose; I have come to speak to you."
She was surprised at first, but when he tried to take liberties with her
she understood and began to tremble violently, as she felt quite alone in
the darkness, still heavy from sleep, and quite unprotected, with that
man standing near her. She certainly did not consent, but she resisted
carelessly struggling against that instinct which is always strong in
simple natures and very imperfectly protected by the undecided will of
inert and gentle races. She turned her head now to the wall, and now
toward the room, in order to avoid the attentions which the farmer tried
to press on her, but she was weakened by fatigue, while he became brutal,
intoxicated by desire.

They lived together as man and wife, and one morning he said to her: "I
have put up our banns, and we will get married next month."

She did not reply, for what could she say? She did not resist, for what
could she do?

PART IV

She married him. She felt as if she were in a pit with inaccessible sides
from which she could never get out, and all kinds of misfortunes were
hanging over her head, like huge rocks, which would fall on the first
occasion. Her husband gave her the impression of a man whom she had
robbed, and who would find it out some day or other. And then she thought
of her child, who was the cause of her misfortunes, but who was also the
cause of all her happiness on earth, and whom she went to see twice a
year, though she came back more unhappy each time.

But she gradually grew accustomed to her life, her fears were allayed,
her heart was at rest, and she lived with an easier mind, though still
with some vague fear floating in it. And so years went on, until the
child was six. She was almost happy now, when suddenly the farmer's
temper grew very bad.

For two or three years he seemed to have been nursing some secret
anxiety, to be troubled by some care, some mental disturbance, which was
gradually increasing. He remained sitting at table after dinner, with his
head in his hands, sad and devoured by sorrow. He always spoke hastily,
sometimes even brutally, and it even seemed as if he had a grudge against
his wife, for at times he answered her roughly, almost angrily.

One day, when a neighbor's boy came for some eggs, and she spoke rather
crossly to him, as she was very busy, her husband suddenly came in and
said to