And now their voices seemed to them as clear as the notes of a lark.

And ah! how delightful it was in that warm corner, in that holiday atmosphere! They still held each other's hands.

Silvere leaning against the wall, Miette with her figure slightly thrown backwards.

They were about to tell each other all the soft things which they had not dared to confide to the reverberations of the well, when Silvere, hearing a slight noise, started, and, turning pale, dropped Miette's hands.

He had just seen aunt Dide standing before him erect and motionless on the threshold of the doorway.
The grandmother had come to the well by chance.