And for my part, I don't dare do so
much as press your hand! In the woods, when my son was asleep, and you
were asleep too, I came near kissing you softly. But I should have died
of shame rather than ask you for a kiss, and I suffered as much that
night as a man roasting over a slow fire. Since then, I've dreamed of
you every night. Ah! how I have kissed you, Marie! But you slept without
dreaming all the time. And now do you know what I think? that if you
should turn and look at me with such eyes as I have for you, and if you
should put your face to mine, I believe I should fall dead with joy. And
as for you, you are thinking that if such a thing should happen to you,
you would die of anger and shame!"
Germain talked as if he were dreaming, and did not know what he said.
Little Marie was still trembling; but as he was trembling even more than
she, he did not notice it. Suddenly she turned; she was all in tears,
and looked at him with a reproachful expression.
The poor ploughman thought that that was the last stroke, and rose to
go, without awaiting his sentence, but the girl detained him by throwing
her arms about him, and hid her face against his breast.
"Ah! Germain," she said, sobbing, "haven't you guessed that I love you?"
Germain would have gone mad, had not his son, who was looking for him
and who entered the cottage galloping on a stick, with his little sister
_en croupe_, lashing the imaginary steed with a willow switch, recalled
him to himself.
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