"And then, at Chelles it isn't like this; you meet people there."
"True; we met as many as three people on our way to that poor farmer's.—So we do not need to cross the bridge, you say?"
"No, madame, there's Guillot's field at our left."
"And the Tower," said Agathe; "why don't we see it from here?"
"Because we're in a hollow; but it's over yonder, behind Gournay, toward Noisy-le-Grand. You wait till you see all this six weeks from now; then the trees will be green and the shrubs in flower, and it'll be much brighter than it is now."
"You are right, Père Ledrux."
"Look, there's Guillot's field, and I see Poucette digging."
Poucette was a tall, strong girl, with the bronzed skin of those who work in the fields. But her round face was honest and good-humored, her black eyes met yours unflinchingly, albeit without the slightest touch of boldness in their expression; and when she smiled, as she did very frequently, she showed a double row of teeth whose whiteness formed a striking contrast to her brown skin.
A little girl of eleven or twelve, with the head of a boy, whose hair, cut à la Titus, presented the aspect of a hedgehog, was working by Poucette's side; it was Claudine, the farmer's oldest child.
The two villagers stopped their work to look at the two young women who were coming toward them. In a region where you may walk all day without meeting a cat, one may be forgiven for suspending work to stare at two stylishly dressed ladies.