They were not wet nor chilled nor hungry. They had not looked on death nor felt the shadow of eternity. The sweet mystery of continued life was before them. The flood, like a sea of glass, spread itself to the thousand footsteps of the sun.
Tante-gra'mère kept her eyes upon them. But it is not easy to hear what people say when you are riding among treetops and bird's-nests in the early morning.
"Mademoiselle, we are nearly home."
"Yes, monsieur."
"It has been to me a great night."
"I can understand that, monsieur."
"The children will be dancing when they see you. Odile and Pierre were awake, and they both cried when the first boat came home last night without you."
"Monsieur the colonel, you are too good to us."
"Angélique, do you love me?"
"It is true, monsieur."