“You will take care of the picture, my dear?”
“Yes, I will take great care of it,” said Manon.
Mère Vitry explained that the picture had belonged to her mother in the days when her father had come back from the Russian war, and that it had hung in the same place and on the same nail.
“My father drove that nail, and every two years I used to put a new piece of cord on the picture. And you say there is no roof left in the house?”
“Just a small piece. There are no whole roofs in Beaucourt.”
“Enough for an old woman to sleep under, perhaps. I shall be there when the spring comes.”
Etienne had loaded the cart, and had so arranged the arm-chair that it formed a seat for Manon. He was going to walk beside his horse.
“I shall walk,” said Manon.
Marie Castener scolded her.
“Get up and save your legs. Etienne can ride all the way home.”