“Only some raisins and a little hard bread.”
“But bread, monsieur! That I have not tasted for long. We will go to the brook-side and sit down.”
“And the herd?”
“They will not wander. When they come to a fruitful ground they stay there till it is stripped.”
She led the way round the hill to the little gushing stream and seated herself on a green stone. I would not even slake my thirst until I had spread my store on her lap. Then I lay down at her feet, like a dog, and waited for the fragments she could spare. She ate with relish, and took little notice of me. But presently she paused, in astonishment at herself.
“I am eating up your dinner!” she cried.
“It gives me more pleasure to watch than to share with you.”
“Oh, fie!” she exclaimed. “But am I not a true swineherd?”
She handed me the satchel.
“It is all yours, mademoiselle.”