“Why should you not be man and wife?”
Caudray raised his head. Déruchette looked up.
Gilliatt stood before them.
He had approached by a bye-path.
He was no longer the same man that he had appeared on the previous night. He had arranged his hair, shaved his beard, put on shoes, and a white shirt, with a large collar turned over, sailor fashion. He wore a sailor’s costume, but all was new. A gold ring was on his little finger. He seemed profoundly calm. His sunburnt skin had become pale: a hue of sickly bronze overspread it.
They looked at him astonished. Though so changed, Déruchette recognised him. But the words which he had spoken were so far from what was passing in their minds at that moment, that they had left no distinct impression.
Gilliatt spoke again:
“Why should you say farewell? Be man and wife, and go together.”
Déruchette started. A trembling seized her from head to foot.
Gilliatt continued: