heels that sink into the
mud. In point of fact, I could say the exact number of times when I have
seen her and why I noticed her, for the sight of her always hurt me
cruelly when I met her in the sweet stillness of the country lanes.

For a long time, I wandered round the farm. I was moving away, picking
flowers as I went, when suddenly, at a bend in the road, I saw the girl
who filled my thoughts. She was sitting on a heap of stones; and two
large pails of milk stood beside her. Her attitude betokened great
weariness; and her drooping arms seemed to enjoy the rest.

I lingered a little while in front of her. Her face appeared to me
lovelier than on the first occasion, though her uncovered head allowed
me to see her magnificent hair plastered down so as to leave it no
freedom whatever. She answered my smile with a blush; and, when I looked
at her thick and awkward hands, she clasped and unclasped them with an
embarrassed air.

2

Just now, at the wane of the day, I was singing in the drawing-room,
with the windows open. I caught sight in the mirror of the sky ablaze
with red and rose quickly from the piano to see the sun dip into the
sea.... Near the garden, behind the hedge, I surprised the young girl
trying to hide....

3

I had never seen her; but now, because I saw her one day, I am always
seeing her.

Do we then behold only what we seek? It is a sad thought. We shall be
called upon to die before we have seen everything, understood
everything, loved and embraced everything. Our skirts will have brushed
against joys which we shall not have felt; our streaming tresses will
have passed through perfumes which we shall not have breathed; our mouth
will have kissed flowers which our hands have not known how to pick; and
very often our eyes will have seen without acquainting our intelligence.
We shall not have been observant continually.

It is a pity that things possess no other life than that which we
bestow upon them. I dislike to find that, for me, everything is subject
to my observation and my knowledge. The first is great indeed, but the
second is so small!...

4

A few years ago, the parish priest was on his way to the church at four
o'clock one morning, to celebrate the harvest mass, when he saw a
strange thing floating on the surface of the pool that washes the steps
of the wayside crucifix. As he approached, he perceived that it was a
woman's long hair. A moment later, they drew the body of a