There was a faint suggestion of irritation in Honorine’s manner as she said this; but Agathe did not notice it.
“Mon Dieu! my dear,” she rejoined, “as the man doesn’t care for society, but avoids it, why should you expect him to come to see us? It doesn’t seem to me that that is any reason why we should deprive ourselves of the pleasure of walking in the direction that is most agreeable to us. For my part, I would like to go toward the Tower, and Noisy-le-Grand; for that is where that ravine is, with the cross erected on the spot where they found a young man dead. To tell the truth, I am very curious to see the place; it will make my flesh creep, but no matter; I am very desirous to see it; I have never forgotten that story that the doctor told us.”
Honorine, whose resolution did not seem very firm, replied:
“Oh, well! if you want to see the ravine and the cross—after all, it isn’t our fault that the gentleman’s estate lies in that direction; and then it would be very strange if we should happen to meet him again.”
“It isn’t likely.”
“At all events, if we do meet him, we will not speak to him—do you understand? we will simply bow to him, but we will not stop.”
“But suppose he speaks to us?”
“Oh! in that case—but he won’t speak to us, as he cares so little for society.”
“Let us start; this time I trust that we shall not meet any cows to frighten us.”
The two friends left the house. It was seven o’clock in the evening; the weather was fine, but the atmosphere was somewhat heavy and seemed to presage a storm. The young women did not allow themselves to be frightened by some dark clouds which appeared above the horizon. They strolled idly along the road to Gournay, stopping now and then to pluck flowers; and after passing through the little village, Honorine said: