“Is it agreed?”
He pressed her outstretched hand.
“'Tis agreed.”
“It's settled, then, for next Sunday?”
“It's settled for next Sunday”
“Well, good-morning, Victor.”
“Good-morning, Madame Houlbreque.”
PART III
This particular 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 live the families of strolling fair exhibitors, lottery managers, keepers of shooting galleries and other forms of amusement or exhibitors of curiosities whom the peasants call “wonder-makers” could be seen coming along the roads drawn slowly by gray or sorrel horses.