But he heard only the light flapping of a little morning cap, tied to a branch of a lilac bush, as if it were a bouquet, and which belonged to her.
From that date, each time that Angelique opened her window she saw Felicien over there in the Clos-Marie.

He passed days in the field, having the chapel window as an excuse for doing so, on which, however, the work did not advance the least in the world.

For hours he would forget himself behind a cluster of bushes, where, stretched out on the grass, he watched through the leaves.

And it was the greatest of pleasures to smile at each other every morning and evening.

She was so happy that she asked for nothing more.