“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 farm.”
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. At last 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.”