ses
and she said to him, as if she had met him the night before:

"Good morrow, Victor--are you quite well, the same as ever?"

He replied:

"I'm quite well, the same as ever--and how are you?"

"Oh, I'd be all right, only that I'm alone in the house, which bothers me
on account of the grounds."

Then they remained chatting for a long time, leaning against the wheel of
the heavy cart. The man every now and then lifted up his cap to scratch
his forehead, and began thinking, while she, with flushed cheeks, went on
talking warmly, told him about her views, her plans, her projects for the
future. In the end, he said, in a low tone:

"Yes, it can be done."

She opened her hand like a countryman clinching a bargain, and asked:

"Is it agreed?"

He pressed her outstretched hand.

"'Tis agreed."

"'Tis fixed, then, for Sunday next?"

"'Tis fixed for Sunday next."

"Well, good morning, Victor."

"Good morning, Madame Houlbreque."

PART III

This Sunday was the day of the village festival, the annual festival in
honor of the patron saint, which in Normandy is called the assembly.

For the last eight days quaint looking vehicles, in which lay the
wandering families of fancy fair owners, lottery managers, keepers of
shooting galleries, and other forms of amusement or exhibitors of
curiosities, which the peasants call "monster-makers," could be seen
coming along the roads drawn slowly by gray or chestnut horses.

The dirty caravans with their floating curtains accompanied by a
melancholy-looking dog, who trotted, with his head down, between the
wheels, drew up one after the other, in the green fronting the Mayor's
office. Then a tent was erected in front of each traveling abode, and
inside this tent could be seen through the holes in the canvas glittering
things, which excited the envy or the curiosity of the village brats.

As soon as the morning of the fete arrived, all the booths were opened,
displaying their splendors of glass or porcelain; and the peasants on
their way to mass, regarded already with looks of satisfaction, these
modest shops, which, nevertheless, they saw again each succeeding year.

From the early part of the afternoon, there was a crowd on the green.
From every neighboring village, the farmers arrived, shaken along with
their wives and children in the two-wheeled open cars, which made a
rattling sound as they oscillated like cradles. They unyoked at their
friends' houses, and the fa