After a long silence—for a countryman moves in the world of ideas at the pace of a plough-ox among the furrows—old Randon suggested: “Do you think we ought to go up to Le Maupas together?”
“I was thinking about it,” rejoined the Mayor. And they encouraged each other with all kinds of good reasons.
“Nobody will see us.”
“It is dark.”
“We will go up privately, as fellow citizens.”
“Just in ordinary clothes, unofficially.”
“The doctor saved my little one.”
“And my two daughters. Mélanie, my hat!”
They got up very firmly. They felt proud of their resolution. They wrapped themselves up in their capes and went out, the old man going in front like a youngster. They got as far as the end of the village, when in the road they met the schoolmaster, who was walking along smoking a cigar. Maillard grinned as he recognised them.
“What, going for a walk?” he asked.