She also felt inclined to run; she felt inclined to move and to stretch her limbs and to repose in the warm, breathless air.  She took a few undecided steps and closed her eyes, for she was seized with a feeling of animal comfort, and then she went to look for eggs in the hen loft.  There were thirteen of them, which she took in and put into the storeroom; but the smell from the kitchen annoyed her again, and she went out to sit on the grass for a time.

The farmyard, which was surrounded by trees, seemed to be asleep.  The tall grass, amid which the tall yellow dandelions rose up like streaks of yellow light, was of a vivid, fresh spring green.  The apple trees cast their shade all round them, and the thatched roofs, on which grew blue and yellow irises, with their sword-like leaves, steamed as if the moisture of the stables and barns were coming through the straw.  The girl went to the shed, where the carts and buggies were kept.  Close to it, in a ditch, there was a large patch of violets, whose fragrance was spread abroad, while beyond the slope the open country could be seen, where grain was growing, with clumps of trees in places, and groups of laborers here and there, who looked as small as dolls, and white horses like toys, who were drawing a child’s cart, driven by a man as tall as one’s finger.

She took up a bundle of straw, threw it into the ditch and sat down upon it.  Then, not feeling comfortable, she undid it, spread it out and lay down upon it at full length on her back, with both arms under her head and her legs stretched out.

Gradually her eyes closed, and she was falling into a state of delightful languor.  She was, in fact, almost asleep when she felt two hands on her bosom, and she sprang up at a bound.  It was Jacques, one of the farm laborers, a tall fellow from Picardy, who had been making love to her for a long time.  He had been herding the sheep, and, seeing her lying down in the shade, had come up stealthily and holding his breath, with glistening eyes and bits of straw in his hair.

He tried to kiss her, but she gave him a smack in the face, for she was as strong as he, and he was shrewd enough to beg her pardon; so they sat down side by side and talked amicably.  They spoke about the favorable weather, of their master, who was a good fellow, then of their neighbors, of all the people in the country round, of themselves, of their village, of their youthful days, of their recollections, of their relations, who had left them for a long time, and it might be forever.  She grew sad as she thought of it, while he, with one fixed idea in his head, drew closer to her.

“I have not seen my mother for a long time,” she said.  “It is very hard to be separated like that,” and she directed her looks into the distance, toward the village in the north which she had left.