t the slow circling flight of a gull with its white curved
wings outlined on the blue sky, sometimes at the brown sails of a
fishing bark on the green sea. In short, I had passed a happy day, a day
of liberty and of freedom from care.

"A little farmhouse where travellers were lodged was pointed out to me,
a kind of inn, kept by a peasant woman, which stood in the centre of a
Norman courtyard surrounded by a double row of beeches.

"Leaving the coast, I reached the hamlet, which was hemmed in by great
trees, and I presented myself at the house of Mother Lecacheur.

"She was an old, wrinkled and stern peasant woman, who seemed always to
receive customers under protest, with a kind of defiance.

"It was the month of May. The spreading apple trees covered the court
with a shower of blossoms which rained unceasingly both upon people and
upon the grass.

"I said: 'Well, Madame Lecacheur, have you a room for me?'

"Astonished to find that I knew her name, she answered:

"'That depends; everything is let, but all the same I can find out."

"In five minutes we had come to an agreement, and I deposited my bag
upon the earthen floor of a rustic room, furnished with a bed, two
chairs, a table and a washbowl. The room looked into the large, smoky
kitchen, where the lodgers took their meals with the people of the farm
and the landlady, who was a widow.

"I washed my hands, after which I went out. The old woman was making a
chicken fricassee for dinner in the large fireplace in which hung the
iron pot, black with smoke.

"'You have travellers, then, at the present time?' said I to her.

"She answered in an offended tone of voice:

"'I have a lady, an English lady, who has reached years of maturity. She
occupies the other room.'

"I obtained, by means of an extra five sous a day, the privilege of
dining alone out in the yard when the weather was fine.

"My place was set outside the door, and I was beginning to gnaw the lean
limbs of the Normandy chicken, to drink the clear cider and to munch the
hunk of white bread, which was four days old but excellent.

"Suddenly the wooden gate which gave on the highway was opened, and a
strange lady directed her steps toward the house. She was very thin,
very tall, so tightly enveloped in a red Scotch plaid shawl that one
might have supposed she had no arms, if one had not seen a long hand
appear just above the hips, holding a white tourist umbrella. Her face
was like that of a mu