they spent in arranging their new home. They discovered that old
Porrette had taken away half the kitchen utensils before signing the
agreement. But that matter did not affect them. They took a delight
in dabbling about amidst the showers; they made journeys three leagues
long, as far as Vernon, to buy plates and saucepans, which they brought
back with them in triumph. At last they got shipshape, occupying one of
the upstairs rooms, abandoning the other to the mice, and transforming
the dining-room into a studio; and, above all, as happy as children
at taking their meals in the kitchen off a deal table, near the hearth
where the soup sang in the pot. To wait upon them they engaged a girl
from the village, who came every morning and went home at night. She
was called Melie, she was a niece of the Faucheurs, and her stupidity
delighted them. In fact, one could not have found a greater idiot in the
whole region.

The sun having shown itself again, some delightful days followed, the
months slipping away amid monotonous felicity. They never knew the date,
they were for ever mixing up the days of the week. Every day, after the
second breakfast, came endless strolls, long walks across the tableland
planted with apple trees, over the grassy country roads, along the banks
of the Seine through the meadows as far as La Roche-Guyon; and there
were still more distant explorations, perfect journeys on the opposite
side of the river, amid the cornfields of Bonnieres and Jeufosse. A
person who was obliged to leave the neighbourhood sold them an old boat
for thirty francs, so that they also had the river at their disposal,
and, like savages, became seized with a passion for it, living on its
waters for days together, rowing about, discovering new countries, and
lingering for hours under the willows on the banks, or in little creeks,
dark with shade. Betwixt the eyots scattered along the stream there was
a shifting and mysterious city, a network of passages along which, with
the lower branches of the trees caressingly brushing against them, they
softly glided, alone, as it were, in the world, with the ringdoves and
the kingfishers. He at times had to spring out upon the sand, with bare
legs, to push off the skiff. She bravely plied the oars, bent on forcing
her way against the strongest currents, and exulting in her strength.
And in the evening they ate cabbage soup in the kitchen, laughing at
Melie's stupidity, as they had laughed at it