Autumn Glory; Or, The Toilers of the Field

by René Bazin

"Humph! to-morrow."

"To-morrow?"

"Yes, I have to be at La Roche at noon, to begin work on the railway."

Eléonore covered her face with both hands.

"Oh, I say, don't you go and leave me now," he continued. "Do you want to?"

"No, François, but to go to-morrow—to-morrow!"

"Not to-morrow, to-night—at once. You ought to have expected it. Why, you engaged with the owner of the coffee shop in Rue Neuve two months ago. Did you sign the lease or not?"

"Yes."

"Did you promise to keep house for me?"

"Yes, François."