iately.

They did not speak on the road; she walked with short, hasty steps,
while he strode on with his long legs, as if he were crossing a brook at
every step.

The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their
heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them
for some green grass.

When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: "Suppose it is
all over?" And the unconscious wish which he had that it might be so,
showed itself in the sound of his voice.

But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her
wretched bed, her hands covered with a pink cotton counterpane, horribly
thin, knotty hands, like strange animals, like crabs, and closed by
rheumatism, fatigue, and the work of nearly a century which she had
accomplished.

La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her
pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her
questions, so as to hear her speak: and then, having looked at her for
some time longer, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her
decided opinion was that the old woman would not last out the night, and
he asked: "Well?" And the sick-nurse replied: "Well, she may last two
days, perhaps three. You will have to give me six francs, everything
included."

"Six francs! six francs!" he shouted. "Are you out of your mind? I tell
you that she cannot last more than five or six hours!" And they disputed
angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she would go home, as the
time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of
its own accord, he agreed to her terms at last:

"Very well then, that is settled; six francs including everything, until
the corpse is taken out." "That is settled, six francs."

And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat, which was lying on
the ground under the hot sun, which ripens the grain, while the
sick-nurse returned to the house.

She had brought some work with her, for she worked without stopping by
the side of the dead and the dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for
the family which employed her as seamstress also, paying her rather
more in that capacity. Suddenly she asked: "Have you received the last
sacraments, Mother Bontemps?"

The old peasant woman said "no" with her head, and la Rapet, who was
very devout, got up quickly: "Good heavens, is it possible? I will go
and fetch the Cure;" and she rushed off to the parsonage