Firmin stupidly stared at Barrau, with an air of indifference; while Catherine, vexed at Savin’s interference, addressed him brusquely in these words: “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Not much. You have played too long. You must go and rest.”
“But we have not yet gathered the berries.”
“Well, let the others do that. Come, let us go.”
“Oh, no, indeed,” said Catherine, perversely. “You may go on if you like, but I——”
“Come along, Catherine. Do not provoke me.”
A hard look entered her eyes. To be led away before everybody appeared to her, at that moment, the acme of humiliation. It was wiser to concede to her husband’s wishes, she well knew, for he loved her ardently, and had only her welfare at heart. But she did not wish to seem so meek before her friends. Indeed, she would show them that she was not to be bullied.
“It would have been surprising had you not come to spoil all our sport. But, as I said before, you may go. I shall remain longer.”
“Poor little one,” said Andoche, hatefully.
The gamekeeper’s wife turned toward a group of peasants, some of whom were regarding her approvingly, others with displeasure.