“I think the best thing we can do,” said she, “is to take what we want and then cover up the rest till we want some more.”
“Put the stuff under the rocks again?” asked Bompard.
“Yes.”
“Mon Dieu!” said La Touche.
It was not what he said but the way he said it that angered the girl.
La Touche was a problem in her mind. She could understand Bompard but she could not quite understand La Touche. It seemed to her that he was one of those people who without much intelligence, yet, or perhaps because of that fact, make fine centres of rebellion. She could fancy him leading a mob to tear down something that vexed him, and everything seemed to vex him, at times.
But though she was not clear about La Touche she was quite clear about herself and she was determined to be his master. She felt instinctively that he was the leader of Bompard and that Bompard alone would have been a much better individual, in many respects.
“There is no use in saying ‘Mon Dieu,’” said she, “the thing has to be done. The gulls and the rabbits will ruin everything if we leave things about. Come, Bompard.”
Bompard rose up at the order and began to assist in sorting out the things they were to take back with them. Then La Touche, not to be out of the business and perhaps ashamed of himself, or of his position as an idler, joined in.
Had she given the order direct to him he might have revolted; she had conquered him for the moment none the less.