t are you looking for?' he cried. 'You know very well that is
forbidden.'

She sprang up hastily, and slightly blushed for the first time that day.
Then sitting down by the side of Serge, she told him of the fine times
there would be when the oranges should be ripe. The wood would then
be all golden, all bright with those round stars, dotting with yellow
sparks the arching green.

When at last they really set off homeward she halted at every
wild-growing fruit tree, and filled her pockets with sour pears and
bitter plums, saying that they world be good to eat on their way. They
would prove a hundred times more enjoyable than anything they had tasted
before. Serge was obliged to swallow some of them, in spite of the
grimaces he made at each bite. And eventually they found themselves
indoors again, tired out but feeling very happy.

X

A week later there was another expedition to the park. They had planned
to extend their rambles beyond the orchard, striking out to the left
through the meadows watered by the four streams. They would travel
several miles over the thick grass, and they might live on fish, if they
happened to lose themselves.

'I will take my knife,' said Albine, holding up a broad-bladed peasant's
knife.

She crammed all kinds of things into her pockets, string, bread,
matches, a small bottle of wine, some rags, a comb, and some needles.
Serge took a rug, but by the time they had passed the lime-trees and
reached the ruins of the chateau, he found it such an encumbrance that
he hid it beneath a piece of fallen wall.

The sun was hotter than before, Albine had delayed their departure by
her extensive preparations. Thus in the heat of the morning they stepped
along side by side, almost quietly. They actually managed to take twenty
paces at a time without pushing one another or laughing. They began to
talk.

'I never can wake up,' began Albine. 'I slept so soundly last night. Did
you?'

'Yes, indeed, very soundly,' replied Serge.

'What does it mean when you dream of a bird that talks to you?' the girl
resumed.

'I don't know. What did your bird say to you?'

'Oh, I have forgotten. But it said all kinds of things, and many of
them sounded very comical. Stop, look at that big poppy over there. You
sha'n't get it, you sha'n't get it!'

And then she sprang forward; but Serge, thanks to his long legs,
outstripped her and plucked the poppy, which he waved about
victoriously. She stood there