le of the same class. I am not the fellow to come after a
'swell' lady."

He went forth on his way. So now all was over for ever and ever. She had
not even said what she wished in that interview, which had only made her
seem a very bold girl in his sight. What kind of a fellow was this Yann,
with his contempt for women, his scorn for money, and all desirable
things?

At first she remained fixed to the spot, sick with giddiness, as things
swam around her. One intolerably painful thought suddenly struck her
like a flash of lightning--Yann's comrades, the Icelanders, were waiting
for him below in the market-place. What if he were to tell them this
as a good joke--what a still more odious affront upon her! She quickly
returned to her room to watch them through her window-curtains.

Before the house, indeed, she saw the men assembled, but they were
simply contemplating the weather, which was becoming worse and worse,
and discussed the threatening rain.

"It'll only be a shower. Let's go in and drink away the time, till it
passes."

They poked jokes and laughed loudly over Jeannie Caroff and other
beauties; but not even one of them looked up at _her_ window. They were
all joyful, except Yann, who said nothing, and remained grave and sad.
He did not go in to drink with them; and without noticing either them
or the rain, which had begun to fall, he slowly walked away under
the shower, as if absorbed in his thoughts, crossing the market-place
towards Ploubazlanec.

Then she forgave him all, and a feeling of hopeless tenderness for him
came, instead of the bitter disappointment that previously had filled
her heart. She sat down and held her head between her hands. What could
she do now?

Oh! if he had listened only a moment to her, or if he could come into
that room, where they might speak together alone, perhaps all might yet
be arranged. She loved him enough to tell him so to his face. She would
say to him: "You sought me out when I asked you for nothing; now I am
yours with my whole soul, if you will have me. I don't mind a bit being
the wife of a fisherman, and yet, if I liked, I need but choose
among all the young men of Paimpol; but I do love you, because,
notwithstanding all, I believe you to be better than others. I'm
tolerably well-to-do, and I know I am pretty; although I have lived
in towns, I am sure that I am not a spoiled girl, as I never have done
anything wrong; then, if I love you so, why shouldn't you t