It was a boundless
vista, with grey seas of olive-trees, and vineyards that looked like
huge pieces of striped cloth. The whole country was magnified by the
clearness of the atmosphere and the peaceful cold. However, sharp gusts
of wind chilled the young people's faces. And thereupon they sprang to
their feet, cheered by the sight of the clear morning. Their melancholy
forebodings had vanished with the darkness, and they gazed with delight
at the immense expanse of the plain, and listened to the tolling of the
two bells that now seemed to be joyfully ringing in a holiday.
"Ah! I've had a good sleep!" Miette cried. "I dreamt you were kissing
me. Tell me now, did you kiss me?"
"It's very possible," Silvere replied laughing. "I was not very warm. It
is bitterly cold."
"I only feel cold in the feet," Miette rejoined.
"Well! let us have a run," said Silvere. "We have still two good leagues
to go. You will get warm."
Thereupon they descended the hill and ran until they reached the high
road. When they were below they raised their heads as if to say farewell
to that rock on which they had wept while their kisses burned their
lips. But they did not again speak of that ardent embrace which had
thrilled them so strongly with vague, unknown desire. Under the pretext
of walking more quickly they did not even take each other's arm. They
experienced some slight confusion when they looked at one another,
though why they could not tell.
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